By The Hasid

Many of you may have read Mark Dapin’s article about second generation Holocaust survivors, “Stories My Parents Told Me”, in Good Weekend last Saturday (22 August). The article was sensitive and well-written, and the experiences of the interviewees were probably very familiar to anyone who has grown up Jewish in Melbourne. Unfortunately I can’t provide a link to the complete article as Good Weekend content is not posted on any of the Fairfax websites (get thee to a hard copy).

What irked me slightly about the piece, though, was the ending. Dapin quotes one of the interviewees, who mentions her children going out for drinks on Friday night, and he seems to extrapolate this as representative of a general concern that second generation survivors have about their children – that they may not fully appreciate the sacrifices made by their grandparents. It seems an odd conclusion to me – one that comes in through the back door, so to speak, when no grandchildren of Holocaust survivors have been interviewed or mentioned in the article at all.

“It’s one of the things I’m struggling with now,” says Magda, “because my kids work in the city and it’s the done thing that you go for drinks after work on a Friday night. In my day, I wouldn’t dream of not being home for Friday night [for the Sabbath dinner]. They don’t feel the pull of what our parents would’ve said. That is, ‘You’re not missing out by not drinking.’”

“But our parents had a wonderful way of working with words,” says Erica, “to get us to do what they wanted us to do. They knew which buttons were the guilt buttons.”

“And our kids don’t feel guilt about anything,” says Magda. “We over-compensated. Our kids have to be happy. Our kids have to never feel guilty. Our kids have to have options.”

Nobody wants to keep alive their parents’ anguish and apprehension, their mistrust and dismay, but some of the second generation worry their children have forgotten the lessons learnt behind barbed wire, and don’t understand the sacrifices made in the camps and in the forests, the unstated pacts across family lines. While the second generation grew up feeling the weight – or even the reward – of the history of the 20th century, they fear that the past has lost meaning for the present – and, in the future, not even memory will survive.

Weird conclusion, no?

It’s something of a sombre, depressing ending. And kind of makes me (a grandchild of Holocaust survivors) angry. The suggestion that the third generation may not “understand the sacrifices made in the camps” could not be further from my experience and that of my friends. The Holocaust was in the ether of my childhood and education. My parents have been deeply affected by the experiences of their parents, older relatives and friends’ parents. As an adult, it informs who I am and how I see the world. Call it guilt, memory, whatever you like: not a day goes by when I do not reflect (however briefly) upon my grandparents’ survival, the ‘accident’ of my birth, and the responsibility of perpetuating the memory of the Holocaust. I think it makes me a better, more compassionate person. And sometimes a bit… prone to worrying. But in a good way, you know?

A friend of mine, also in her twenties, recently told me a story I found at once funny, sad and poignant. She clearly remembers attending an after-school activity when she was very young (5 or 6, I think). Many of the other children in attendance were Jewish. My friend asked one of the other children if she was Jewish, to which she responded in the affirmative, but added in a hushed tone, “Shhh. Don’t tell anyone!” My friend asked why. “Because of the the Holocaust,” the other girl whispered.

Part of me gets the angle Dapin is going for. I can understand the concerns expressed by the individuals he interviewed (though they wouldn’t have been aware of how Dapin would interpret their comments). If that’s how they feel, then that’s how they feel. But for Dapin to suggest (and to be fair, he suggests, doesn’t assert) that my generation not feeling guilty (and ohhhh, let me assure you, we feel guilty!) means that we don’t understand the sacrifices made by our grandparents, or don’t appreciate the lessons of history, is kind of simplistic. And also not true. While I don’t go out for drinks on Friday night, I don’t really see why doing so precludes one from having a deep appreciation of the legacy of the Holocaust. (I’m not sure that that’s what Kron was implying either – it seemed to me more that she was pointing out the generational differences. But I’m just speculating here, because obviously I have no way of knowing what went on in the interview.)

What do you think? Is Dapin right?

How do you relate to this conclusion, whether you’re a descendant of Holocaust survivors or not?

Jew with beard = newsworthy?

By The Hasid

By now, you’ve probably heard that an American tourist died in Melbourne on July 23, after being clipped by a motorbike on Hotham Street. Sad news indeed. And, yes, sadly newsworthy. Though such stories are normally kept short, anonymous and buried (if you’ll excuse the expression) in the latter pages of the paper; betwixt a mud slide in Bolivia (feh!) and factory riots in a remote province of western China (yawn).

But page three of The Age? A 220 word column with a photograph of the deceased?

Well, yes. If you’re an ultra-Orthodox Jew with connections to the Adass community, that is.

It never ceases to amaze me. Mundane news becomes a lot… newsier, I suppose, if you’re a Jew with a beard.

To quote directly from the article (by Mex Cooper and Barney Zwartz), published on Friday July 24:

An American tourist who died after he was hit by a motorcycle at Ripponlea on Wednesday night was a leading member of a small Jewish sect.

Holocaust survivor Yitzchok Rotenberg, 71, struck his head on the road after being clipped by a motorbike as he crossed Hotham Street on his way to the Adass Israel Synagogue.

Cooper and Zwartz then go on to elucidate the Jewish burial process – how the deceased must be buried as soon as possible; but in Mr Rotenberg’s case the ritual would be delayed because his body was being repatriated to the United States, etc.

I suppose that’s nothing to get too het up about. It is just an article. And this is “the media”, of course. Maybe it was a slow week. I mean, Judy Moran’s 4WD shopping spree was the lead article on the front page that day.

But then it gets really good:

His son, Kalman Rotenberg, is a member of Melbourne’s Adass community, an ultra-Orthodox and reclusive group of about 150 families based in Elsternwick and Ripponlea.

Mr Rotenberg was himself not a member of the Adass community, but a prominent member of a similarly small, deeply conservative Jewish community in New Square, New York.

The Adass community hit the front pages last year when the principal of the Adass Israel Girls School in Elsternwick, Malka Leifer, a mother of eight, fled to Israel ahead of allegations of molesting teenage girls at the school.

Say it with me, dear readers:

WHAT. THE. HELL.

What do the alleged crimes (terrible as they are – but that’s another post entirely) of Malka Leifer have to do with the death of Yitzchok Rotenberg? Whoever can answer that question to my satisfaction wins my subscription to The Age for 2010! Good luck. May the force be with you.

Alright, alright. To be serious, for a moment. What happened here? Was there some sort of breakdown in the editorial process? Did no sub-editor (if they still have ‘em) realise that the two events were entirely unconnected? Perhaps there was simply a need to make up column inches and the Adass connection seemed intriguing, in a A Stranger Among Us sort of way. To be honest, I’m surprised by this blunder. Cooper’s name is new to me, but Zwartz (who has been religion editor at The Age for many years) has a reputation for excellent journalism. Though I suppose therein lies the problem – getting a religion reporter to cover the local traffic beat is perhaps not the most logical assignment.

Nothing like a hot coffee, a bagel, the AJN and news of a fresh cultural boycott to start one’s day, right?

Yes, dear readers, it’s that time of year again – MIFF! As British director Ken Loach has realised (he of the literally unintelligible My Name is Joe*), there is no better vehicle for really annoying, pointless political protest than an international film festival. All the requisite ingredients are there: various films from various middle-Eastern/African/Asian countries, pontificating intellectual filmmakers and filmgoers (er, myself included), the press… and of course: ‘contentious’ funding.

Here’s an excerpt from the AJN article, which sums up the whole fiasco quite nicely:

In a letter addressed to festival director Richard Moore, a keen supporter of Israeli films, Loach cited Israel’s “illegal occupation of Palestinian land, destruction of homes and livelihoods” and “the massacres in Gaza” as his reasons for boycotting the festival, which gets underway on July 24.

The letter was co-signed by the film’s writer Paul Laverty and producer Rebecca O’Brien.

Earlier this month, an open letter from the Palestinian Campaign for the Academic and Cultural Boycott of Israel was sent to MIFF organisers urging them not to accept funding from the Israeli government. In the letter, Loach was listed as one of the filmmakers who had expressed support for the boycott.

Earlier this year, Loach successfully lobbied the Edinburgh Film Festival to return a grant from the Israeli embassy, which was intended to help Israeli filmmaker Tali Shalow Ezer get her film shown at the prestigious festival.

Loach wrote in his letter to Moore: “This is not a boycott of independent Israeli films or filmmakers, but of the Israeli State.”

Wow, Ken! Really? The state of Israel is that much of a presence at the Melbourne International Film Festival? What next? You’ll no longer be frequenting your local Chinese restaurant because of the situation in Tibet / exploitation of children / shoddy construction standards in earthquake-prone regions? (Good. You need to lay off the MSG.) (OK. Chinese takeaway does not equal Israeli movie at MIFF. But you know what I mean.)

Enough sarcasm. I get where Ken’s coming from, even though I disagree with him. I’m crapped off about a lot of what’s happening in Israel, too. I want a country for Jews and a country for Palestinians. I want real, meaningful, lasting peace. That, in a nutshell, is a very superficial, early-morning run-down of my political proclivities.

But surely, anyone with a bit of saykhl** knows that boycotting a film (or a writer, or an acadmic) is not going to achieve anything. Even if that filmmaker’s efforts may be partially funded by a government whose practices one may find morally questionable. (Special shout out to every film about Aboriginal people ever made in Australia with Australian government funding, ever!)

Surely Ken Loach knows that the Israeli government funds films by Israelis and Palestinians; Christians, Jews and Muslims. Surely Ken Loach knows that art (films! music! visuals! writing!) is one of the most enduring and effective ways to change the way people think and understand the world, for the better. Surely Ken Loach knows that Israeli films submitted to international festivals are unlikely to be pushing an uber-right-wing agenda; but rather encouraging a more nuanced, complex understanding of contemporary Israeli life.

Ach. Why, why, why?

[Hasid claps hand to forehead in frustration]

Let’s hope that the MIFF committee and everyone else leaves Loach’s proposal well enough alone, where it belongs.

A gitn shabbes and happy weekend to all.

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* Below the belt? Perhaps. But that’s 105 minutes of my life I can NEVER GET BACK. Note to self: run for the hills when you hear the words “gritty realist Glaswegian drama”. RUN.

** saykhl = commonsense

The Jewish community of Australia is a strange beast, both forward-thinking and “traditional”.

Nowhere is this dichotomy more apparent than in the role and status of women: we’re simultaneously feminist and bound by conservative gender roles. It’s a strange experience, especially when you’re an idealistic teenager not quite able to ‘sit’ comfortably with contradiction. To wit: the modern-Orthodox school I attended championed the rights and achievements of women in the secular world (the academic expectations placed upon us were certainly equal to those of our male peers), yet we were virtually ignored in prayer services and religious instruction throughout our high-school years. To be blunt, I felt like a second-class citizen, as did much of my female cohort. But that’s for another post.

It does, however, provide a nice segue into into the topic du jour: women’s auxiliaries (of synagogues) and Parents’ organisations (of Jewish schools). Namely, their organisational and fund-raising habits, which – though very important financially – seem to be a complete throwback to another era. Let me be be clear – I am not in any way disparaging the women who dedicate huge chunks of time, money and effort into fund-raising activities, on top of the demands of work and family. I tip my proverbial hat to them and acknowledge how their hard work contributes positively to the Jewish community. And yet, the whole ‘scene’ – the manner in which these activities are organised and presented – gives me the irrits.

Case in point: last week I came across an invitation to the Yavneh Parents’ Organisation’s annual hostess function, to be held on Monday July 20. The event itself sounds really interesting, featuring guest-speaker Joanne Fedler – a best-selling novelist, feminist and women’s-rights activist. Brilliant, I thought. Sounds fascinating. But then, on the back of the (hot pink) invitation, I read that the event was a women’s only function.

“Hostess” function? Hot-pink invitations? Women’s only? Seriously?

What about Yavneh fathers who would also like to contribute to fundraising efforts, or at least hear Ms Fedler speak? What is with the arbitrary segregation of sexes for non-religious, social events? It’s like old-school sexism disguised by a thin veneer of women’s empowerment. One could, I think, safely assume that the women in attendance will be well-educated, open-minded, and – to varying degrees – supportive of feminism as a means of eliminating sexism and breaking-down traditional, socially-constructed gender roles. Which makes the whole thing even more bewildering, like there’s some sort of collective smothering of feminist sensibilities happening for the sake of fund-raising and maintaining ‘tradition’. It just screams Stepford Wives.

I do not mean to single out Yavneh for criticism in this area. Most other Jewish dayschools and synagogues have similar events throughout the year. I’m sure they’re equally backward and painful. (The NCJWA, however, I see as quite distinct, as its mandate is specifically women-oriented; whereas there is nothing specifically women-oriented – at least that I can discern – about a parents’ organisation or a shul.) I just happened to chance upon the Yavneh invitation, but one could easily substitute Yavneh for Scopus, King David, Mizrachi, or any other Jewish educational/religious organisation.

So, can someone please shed some light? Surely I’m not the only woman who attends these events reluctantly and with a sense of deep discomfort? Surely I’m not the only one bored to death by luncheons, gender-segregation and the reinforcement of silly stereotypes?

Speak up, sisters and brothers of Israel.

Bernie Madoff has been sentenced, symbolically, to 150 years in prison for his fraudulent crimes. As someone who is not terribly financially literate (and who gets clammy-palmed telling even the whitest of lies), it continues to astound me that it was possible for one individual to single-handedly (well, perhaps) lose fifty billion dollars. And yet the extent of Madoff’s crimes are still unknown. Certainly, it’s impossible to measure the losses dealt to the numerous individuals, charities and non-profits who trusted Madoff with their money. But enough with the platitudes, there’s nothing new there. I have a question.

My question is not about Madoff’s Jewishness, and whether it is somehow made him more likely to do bad things with other people’s money. Don’t get all het-up, now. Any suggestion that Jews are more likely to screw you and your money around is just dangerous, old-fashioned anti-Semitism. (Although Madoff’s Jewishness did perhaps facilitate his access to various influential Jewish people and organisations.) Unfortunately, bad people of all religions and ethnic extractions do bad things to other people all the time.

My question is about the transparency of the communal organisations of that entrusted their funds and endowments to Madoff: quite simply, was there any?

What sort of responsibility did the Jewish Community Centre (JCC) of, say, a mid-size American city have to report their financial investments and policies to their community members, or an external auditing body?  I’m not suggesting any wrong-doing or complicity on the part of said communal organisations. Obviously, they are in no way to blame for Madoff’s transgressions. But how open were their financial policies to debate, even scrutiny?

And – this is a question that might be un-PC to ask, but anyway – to what extend did the JCCs et al of America trust Madoff because he was Jewish? Madoff’s reputation was stratospheric. It’s hard to argue – or indeed, even have doubts – when everyone else is telling you someone is trustworthy, one of the tribe, and apparently a worker of financial miracles. So did people just assume that because Madoff was Jewish, he was less likely to engage in any morally dubious activity? And, if so, isn’t that just as dangerous as assuming someone’s going to do something morally dubious because they’re Jewish?

Lastly, what do we in Australia have to learn from the experiences of our American counterparts? Could something similar happen here? Or are we, more (ahem), Sensible?

Lots of questions.

Answers?

Sammy and The Hasid get political in the diner (this photo not taken at Shabbos dinner)

By The Hasid

Picture it: Melbourne, 2007!

It’s a Friday night in November. You’re partaking of the Shabbos meal with your nearest and dearest, somewhere in the Jewish Commonwealth of Glen Eira. The conversation turns, inevitably, to the election – in a couple of weeks Australia will either have a new government headed by the lamentably nicknamed K.Rudd, or an old government headed by the lamentably tenacious John Howard.

Your family members start discussing their various political proclivities and opinions (and true to the cultural stereotype, there are many to be had). So what the heck, you throw yours in too: You’re voting Greens.^

Silence, punctuated by a heavenward glance from your Mother. Your uncle thinks you’re “wasting your vote” because you’re not voting for one of the two major political parties. Your younger sister looks quietly amused. Oh this will be fun, she’s thinking… Because, right on cue, your cousin Sammy exclaims: “The Greens hate Israel! How can you vote for a party that is against the existence of the State of Israel?! Are you mad?!”

Now, to be fair, Sammy’s exaggerating a little bit for rhetorical effect and you both know it. But you can see where he’s coming from. He is motivated by a deep concern for Israel’s interests, both within Israel and abroad.

You’re concerned about Israel as well, and you certainly wouldn’t vote for a party which questioned her right to exist. So you explain that, well, actually, the Greens aren’t opposed to the existence of Israel, and also that you don’t agree with everything the Greens have to say about the resolution of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict (in fact there’s quite a big chunk you disagree with), but you’re going to vote for them regardless because this is an Australian election. After careful consideration and perusal of the relevant literature, you have concluded that you agree strongly with their domestic policies, particularly (but not exclusively!) in relation to the environment.

Your cousin Sammy – who resides permanently in Australia and does not hold an Israeli passport – counters that “on principal” he could never vote for a political party whose Middle-East policy was not geared towards the best interests of Israel. And even though he thinks Labor has some excellent policies this time around with regards to health and education, he’s voting for the Coalition because that is what he believes to be “best for Israel”. For Sammy, Israel policy trumps domestic policy, every time.

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So there you have it, dear reader. My fictional cousin Sammy is a single-issue voter.

Single issue voting gets a bad rap from bleeding-heart libs like me at the best of times. In America, the phrase immediately conjures up images of gun enthusiasts and gun-toting anti-abortionists. In Australia, it generally takes a more benign form, like people from Adelaide with bad haircuts agitating for the restoration of ‘family values’ to Australian society. [Which in turn makes me imagine sitting down to a game to Trivial Pursuit with Kevin and Therese on a Shabbos afternoon. I reckon they'd make a formidable team. But I digress.]

However it manifests – and regardless of whether I agree with it – single-issue voting occupies an influential position in the Western democratic political landscape (and probably the non-Western, non-Democratic political landscape too).^^ How an individual decides to vote is entirely their business, and if they’re motivated by a very specific, ‘niche’ issue, so be it. [Even as I'm conceding this fact, I'm shaking my head in dismay and muttering under my breath, “But what about the public health system? Educational reform? Carbon emissions? Tax breaks? The fact that I don't think I could have withstood another term of John Howard's eyebrows? There are so many issues and you only get to vote once every four-ish years! Argh! Pass me the tweezers!”]

BUT.

What if that single-issue doesn’t relate to the country in which you live? What then? Does it make sense to vote for the Party which is going to be “best” for Israel if you’re an Australian citizen voting in an Australian election? And that’s assuming that there is indeed a significant difference between the Mid-East/I-P policies of Australia’s two major political parties! If such a difference exists I couldn’t discern it during their electioneering and I still can’t discern it now. As a layperson, the status quo seems unchanged. [I'm sure many of you will disagree with this assessment and I am happy to be enlightened or challenged!]

And let’s say, hypothetically, that Australia elected a Labor/Coalition/Greens/whatever government that was extremely, singularly pro- or anti- Israel? What then? Would it actually make a difference to Israel and Israelis? Is Australia about to broker a peace deal between Bibi and Hamas? Does Australia play a key role in Middle-Eastern geopolitics? Would this hypothetical Australian PM’s support or condemnation of Israel have a tangible, tachlis effect aside from his/her actual words of support/condemnation? Hypothetically, I can see the possibility of an impact on trade relations. (And trade is definitely significant – the suggestion of sanctions against Israel is extremely concerning and I do not wish to downplay it.) But politically…?

I’m not asking who you vote for. I’m not even asking which Australian political party is “best” for Israel. (If it’s at all possible, it would be great to keep that discussion to a minimum, otherwise we’ll be here forever.) I’m not asking if you think I should have voted Greens.  I’m asking how you decide who you’re going to vote for.

How important is Israel for you in Australian elections?

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^ OK. This is me. Names/identities of family members have been fictionalised. Sister and cousin totally invented for sake of snappy narrative. Note to self: never attempt to write in second-person ever again.

^^ Although it doesn’t relate directly to Australia, it’s worth mentioning JCER‘s ‘Great Schlep‘ campaign during the 2008 American election, fronted by comedian Sarah Silverman. JCER endorsed Barack Obama, and created a very successful cross-platform website to encourage young Jewish adults to visit their grandparents and convince them to vote for Obama. It seems to me that the major focus of TGS was single-issue voters – people who were going to vote Republican because they thought Obama was “bad” for Israel and the Jews. I don’t want to weigh in on the Obama debate in this discussion; but I mention the campaign because it’s an interesting illustration of the perceived influence of single-issue voters.