Features
The late Rabbi Zalman Schachter’s time in Winnipeg recalled at lively evening hosted by Jewish Heritage Centre
(This article originally appeared in the Dec. 21, 2016 issue of The Jewish Post & News) By BERNIE BELLAN
It was billed as an evening that would be devoted to “Rabbi Zalman Schachter and the Winnipeg origins of the Jewish Renewal Movement”.
Like just about everything else associated with the late Rabbi Schachter (who died in 2014 at the age of 90), it was an evening not without controversy.
The Jewish Heritage Centre promoted the program, which was held Monday, Dec. 12, in the Multipurpose Room of the Asper Campus, as part of “its synagogue series connected with the Synagogues Exhibit at the Asper Campus.”
With the ever-clever Prof. Dan Stone serving as host, the audience of over 100 was treated to a series of reminiscences about Rabbi Schachter’s 19 years spent in Winnipeg (from 1956-75) – a time that paralleled the advent of the “New Age” movement, also a time during which the use of hallucinogenic drugs became highly popular among young people.
The evening featured three main speakers: Rabbi Alan Green, who was given his “smichah” by Rabbi Schachter; Prof. Justin Jaron Lewis, an expert on Hasidism and the organizer of an interview project centering around Rabbi Schachter’s time in Winnipeg; and Alexandra Granke, a graduate student at the University of Manitoba in the Department of Religion, whose Masters thesis dealt with the influence Winnipeg’s Jewish community had on Rabbi Schachter’s thinking.
There was also a contribution from Murray (Moish) Goldenberg, who was a protégé of Rabbi Schachter’s. Goldenberg read a poem devoted to the late rabbi’s memory.
Following the speakers’ presentations, Dan Stone invited anyone in the audience who wanted to tell of their own experience with Rabbi Schachter to speak up. One by one individuals told stories about how Rabbi Schachter touched their lives.
Lest anyone reading this think that the evening was nothing more than a love-in for Rabbi Schachter, however, there were some negative notes struck as well. Although he was undoubtedly a man of great charisma, Zalman Schachter had his detractors. Two themes mentioned several times, both by the featured speakers and audience members, coursed through recollections of his time spent in Winnipeg: his faithlessness when it came to his relationships with women, and his overt championing of drug use.
Following is an account of some of what was said:
Rabbi Green who, Dan Stone told the audience, will be leaving Winnipeg in 2018 to move to Fairfield, Iowa – the centre of transcendental meditation, described first meeting Rabbi Schachter in Los Angeles in the 1970s.
In time, Green became a devout follower of Rabbi Schachter’s, culminating in his receiving his smichah from Rabbi Schachter in Philadelphia, where he found the rabbi “surrounded by a bunch of old hippies” – some of whom “were leaders of the New Left in the 1960s.”
“My first class with him,” Rabbi Green said, “was kind of a Sinai movement for me. It literally took my breath away.”
Rabbi Schachter had a multitude of interests, including “Jewish mysticism, humanism, and modern psychology” among others, noted Rabbi Green. As well, “he was fluent in many languages.”
What impressed Rabbi Green quite deeply, he said, was how Rabbi Schachter “brought together Judaism and Indian mysticism”.
“How often we let fear get in the way of Jewish mysticism,” Rabbi Green said Rabbi Schachter once told him.
Turning to the subject of the Jewish Renewal Movement and Rabbi Schachter’s central role in that movement, Rabbi Green observed that “there are now hundreds of Jewish Renewal rabbis – most of them ordained by Rabbi Schachter.”
It was in Winnipeg, Rabbi Green noted, that Rabbi Schachter “created the first rainbow talit”. It was also here that “the interface between psychedelic drugs and spiritual practice” first took root among Rabbi Schachter and his many followers.
Rabbi Green commented, however, “that I always found this phase of Rabbi Schachter’s life to be somewhat embarrassing”.
Following Rabbi Green’s presentation, Justin Jaron Lewis took the podium to offer some observations about Rabbi Schachter’s time in Winnipeg. Lewis noted that Rabbi Schachter’s own autobiography has relatively little to say about the time he spent here, even though it was a fairly lengthy period. As well, the Wikipedia article about the rabbi barely mentions his time spent in Winnipeg, Lewis also observed.
It was partly because of that vacuum, Lewis explained that, at the behest of his colleague in the Judaic Studies program at the University of Manitoba, Ben Baader, Lewis embarked upon the creation of an oral history project devoted to gathering “memories of Rabbi Schachter during his Winnipeg years.”
With contributions from 28 different individuals, all of whom whose lives were touched by Rabbi Schachter at some point during his time spent in Winnipeg – as the director of Hillel, as the representative of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, as a Professor of Religion, and in the many other roles he played, interviews were gathered. Those interviews now reside in a collection put together at the University of Colorado in Boulder (where Rabbi Schachter spent the final years of his life).
(If you would like to listen to any of those interviews simply Google “Winnipeg Jewish renewal”. According to Lewis, however, some of those interviews are not entirely positive in the impressions some interviewees had of Rabbi Schachter.)
The fact that Winnipeg seems to have been almost deliberately obscured in any writing, either by Rabbi Schachter himself or others writing about him, is somewhat of a puzzle for Lewis. After all, he observed, it was here that Rabbi Schachter “began the chaotic and colourful phase of Judaism that became so important in his later years.”
Perhaps it was the shroud of controversy that surrounded him while he was here that led to Rabbi Schachter’s downplaying the time he spent here but, as Lewis suggested, “over time the world has forgiven him even though he left Winnipeg under a cloud”.
It was left to Alexandra Granke to fill in some of the blanks that others have found when it comes to knowing more about the time Rabbi Schacter spent here.
As Granke explained, she was “the first person to have listened to all 28 interviews about Rabbi Schachter” that Winnipeggers gave. (By the way, if you have something you’d like to tell about Rabbi Schachter, you can still get in touch with Justin Jaron Lewis, who said he would love to hear from anyone else who might have something to contribute to the oral history project. He can be reached at Justin_Lewis@umanitoba.ca .)
In analyzing Rabbi Schachter’s often controversial stay in Winnipeg, Granke observed that “there was an air of inevitability about Rabbi Schachter’s break with the Lubavitch movement.”
Granke referred to an interview given by Abe Anhang, who talked about Rabbi Schachter’s use of LSD as the reason for his departure from the Chabad movement.
“His use of LSD runs through many of the other interviews,” Granke noted. Yet, she was “surprised by the relative nonchalance of many of the interviewees” toward Rabbi Schachter’s prolific drug use.
In fact, one interviewee mentioned how she was first introduced to “weed, mescaline, and cocaine” by Rabbi Schachter.
Rather than simply dwell on this aspect of Rabbi Schachter’s life though, Granke observed that many interviewees spoke of how he “opened up his group of followers to a different understanding of Judaism.”
“Doing drugs for him was not something fun,’ Granke noted. Rather, “for him it was about a way to reach a higher level of spirituality.”
Turning to yet another oft-criticized component of his life, Granke did refer to Rabbi Schachter’s having “fathered ten children with a variety of women.”
Yet, despite his somewhat notorious reputation, Granke suggested that others “were willing to overlook his lapses in moral judgment because he was so accepting of others.”
Although Reb Zalman, as he came to be known affectionately by his devoted followers, may have “been the opposite of what was expected of rabbis in Winnipeg,” his “dedication to people” is what seems to have been the mark that he left most often upon others.
“Reb Zalman always had time for others,” was a common refrain through the interviews, Granke said.
As one interviewee suggested, Rabbi Schachter’s form of spirituality, which he formulated while he was in Winnipeg, was “Buddhist chakra meeting Jewish sphirot”.
“He was a Jewish practitioner in a universal soul,” said one interviewee.
Granke referred to the interview given by Len Udow, who suggested that the pain of Rabbi Schachter’s wartime experience (when he fled first from Vichy France, then to Belgium, where he was “one step ahead of the Gestapo”) dissipated during moments in which he was engaged in prayer. “It was as if all the pain of the war was dispelled by the sudden connection with his many ancestors.”
Murray Goldenberg mentioned Rabbi Schachter’s having taught him the blessing for marijuana: “shehakol neheyeh b’dvaro” (who brings about everything by his word).
Yet, as I noted earlier, not everyone was so rosy-hued in their memories of Rabbi Schachter. David Wilder suggested that “the reason he (Rabbi Schachter) doesn’t mention Winnipeg in his writings is because of his situation with his family. His kids didn’t speak to him,” Wilder said (because of their father’s having left their mother to take up with the daughter of a well-known Winnipeg radio announcer).
Justin Jaron Lewis did say though, that “the kids reconciled with him at the end.”
As audience members after audience member spoke up to recall their own experience of Rabbi Schachter, it was easy to understand the enormous impact that this man had on so many Winnipeggers. As Jerry Cohen said, “There was no greater influence on my life Jewishly than Reb Zalman. He was a great influence to many of us in those early years in Winnipeg.”
#1 Mr. — Ernest Seinfeld 2017-07-09 11:15
This is the first time I am reading about this rabbi. I also read an article about him today in the Jerusalem Post and made the following comment:
“I remember Rabbi Schaechter as a fellow student in Vienna at the Sperlgymnasium (high school, the same Sigmund Freud atttended) in 1937.
In Austria classes in one’s religion were mandatory.
He kept trying to upstage our religion teacher by frequent interrupting him with “Raschi said”.
The rest of the students who had no idea of the teaching of Raschi and hardly were even aware of this great Talmud scholar, after a while gave him the nickname ‘Raschi’. The teacher obviously did not enjoy these interruptions but remained quiet and polite.
Ernest Seinfeld
es893columbia.edu”
I attended three years with him in the same classes. He sat always in the first row and tried to ‘shine’. He craved for attention, a trait his fellow students did not exactly find appealing.
In our January 18, 2017 issue we also printed this letter from members of Rabbi Schachter’s family, in response to the original article:
Response to article on Reb Zalman Schachter
We are the widow and children of Reb Zalman Schachhter-Shalomi, z”l. We want to recognize the initiative of the Jewish Heritage Center in convening a public forum honoring our father and Winnipeg origins of the Jewish Renewal Movement. While none of us live in Winnipeg any longer, we treasure the time that the family had in Winnipeg and are sorry that we were unable to be present for this forum. Had we been present, we would have contributed to this retrospective in the following ways.
- The article “The late Rabbi Zalman Schachter’s Time in Winnipeg Recalled at Lively Evening Hosted by Jewish Heritage Centre” misstated the tone of his family situation. Our father was wholehearted in his relationship with his wives and children. His marriage breakdowns were certainly not caused by lapses in moral judgment. Divorce almost always is difficult for the marital partners and children. In the case of Reb Zalman and Feigle, the decision to end their marriage was understandable as, much earlier, they recognized that their relationship was unsustainable. They had drifted apart as a result of the differences in their spiritual visions and only intentionally stayed together until their youngest child reached her Bat Mitzvah so that she would have the capacity to deal with family breakdown. None of the children harbor any resentment to children from other mothers. It is a testament to Reb Zalman’s love for his children, and our love for him, the that we are all in touch with one another to share each other’s joy and provide support in times of need.
- There is an element of physical harshness in the name Schachter, which has its origins in Shochet (slaughterer). Reb Zalman was someone who was deeply concerned with the increase in violent conflict in the world. He adopted a typical Jewish response to his concerns by adding a name that would bring to our consciousness the need to pursue peace, Shalom. For many years now, he has been known and called Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi.
- The relatively limited material in the University of Colorado archives on Jewish Renewal on Reb Zalman’s time in Winnipeg is not based in any way on any deliberate action on his part or because of an alleged cloud causing him to leave the city. Reb Zalman moved to Philadelphia because it had a larger Jewish community and was closer to other large Jewish centers in North America. Reb Zalman had begun providing rabbinic training in Winnipeg, but few students were willing to come to Winnipeg to study. The move to the east coast enabled many more students to access his training and become rabbis. As for the gap in current literature concerning Reb Zalman’s time in Winnipeg, we applaud Professor Lewis’s initiative in collecting oral histories to be added to the archive at the University of Colorado. Regarding the claim that Reb Zalman ignored Winnipeg in his autobiography, it should be noted that 97 pages of the 186 page “My life in Jewish Renewal,” (aside from the Appendices), are devoted to years living in Winnipeg. It is crucial to note, however, that much that happened during this period took place during his numerous travels outside Winnipeg.
We are aware that some of his views and activities were challenged by some elements of the Winnipeg Jewish community. Reb Zalman, as we all are, was human. However, for those who focused their comments at the forum on his imperfections, we wonder what standard they were holding him to. On the first Shabbat of the secular year We read Parshat Va’yigash. The story of our ancestor Ya’acov is drawing to a close. Yes, Ya’acov had issues with his wives, with his children, and with neighbors in the broader community. Those flaws, however, are not the major part of his remembrance. We remember him as a Jewish ancestor whose legacy was that all Jews now are known under Ya’acov’s second name, Yisrae. We are all B’nai Yisrael.
We, his widow, his daughters and sons, his grandchildren and great-grandchildren, all feel that we have been blessed by being the spouse and offspring of one of the 21 century’s greatest rabbis. Each of us, in our own way, is seeking to continue the contribution to society that he has made. May our actions and the actions of Winnipeg Jewry give our father’s neshama an aliyah!
Blessings,The Widow and all the children of Rabbi Schachter-Shalomi
Eve, Miriam, Rabbi Shalom, Josef, Yale, Chana Tina, Jonathan, Lisa, Shalvi, Rabbi Shlomo Barya, Yotam & Rossi
Features
“The Rabbi of Baton Rouge”: new book is both a rom com and an insightful look at the challenges of living in a small Jewish community
Reviewed by BERNIE BELLAN About a month ago I received an email from a publicist about a new book titled The Rebbe of Baton Rouge.
Now, I should explain that even though I’m now officially retired as publisher of The Jewish Post I still receive loads of emails inviting me to review new books. Unfortunately, most of the titles seem to fall into one of two categories: Either self-help books or books about the Holocaust. I usually don’t even open those emails.
But, when I received this particular email – whose title alone intrigued me (“Review copy: the Rebbe of Baton Rouge”), I decided to read the email.
Here’s what it said:
“Dear Bernie,
“I hope you’ll consider The Rebbe of Baton Rouge for review or feature coverage in The Jewish Post and News. It’s a new Southern-Jewish novel from University of Louisiana at Lafayette Press, out this October.
“Anna Zisk, a Yiddish literature professor, flees a scandal in Boston and moves back into her childhood home in Baton Rouge. Adam Kluger is the new rabbi in town, trying to hold together a shrinking congregation in a city with barely enough Jews to fill a high school gym. His ex-fiancée left him at the altar, a rival synagogue is picking off his members, and he’s being haunted by a Yiddish-speaking ghost. Then he starts falling for Anna.
“It’s a funny, fast-moving rom-com that’s also about faith, belonging, and what holds a small community together.
“The authors, Jennifer Anne Moses and Stuart Green, lived in Baton Rouge for years and raised their three children there. Jennifer has written nine previous books, including the memoir Bagels and Grits: A Jew on the Bayou. Stuart is a Distinguished Professor of Law at Rutgers.
“I’d be glad to send a PDF or print review copy or arrange an interview with the authors. Thank you for considering it.”
I responded to the publicist:
“This sounds interesting – a bit of a distraction from the endless series of Holocaust books that we’re usually asked to consider reviewing.
“You can send me a pdf of the book and I’ll take a look at it – no promises.”
In short order I received a pdf of The Rebbe of Baton Rouge – and wow – was this one ever good!
The problem is, after you’ve finished reading what’s about to be a glowing review, you’re going to have a tough time buying this book. From what I can see, it’s available only through Amazon so far – and even though Amazon says it’s just a paperback, it’s priced at $42.66 (I assume that’s in Canadian dollars because I looked for it on Amazon Canada.)
Putting aside the cost of the book, however, I want to tell you why I was so thoroughly entertained by this book – and why I think it will interest Winnipeg Jews in particular.
The story is set mostly in Baton Rouge, which I discovered is a relatively small city (only about 225,000 population) – with a very small Jewish population (only about 1500).
From the way it’s described in the book, anyone considering moving there would have to think twice before doing that. It’s very humid, is infested with mosquitoes – and, at the time the book was set (which is 2016), it was prime MAGA territory.
The two principal protagonists in the book, a Yiddish studies professor named Anna Zisk, and a Reform rabbi named Adam Kluger, both end up in Baton Rouge – although neither one by choice.
Anna has become entangled in an embarrassing affair with one of her male grad students in a Boston college – and when the affair ends at Anna’s insistence, the grad student launches a sexual harassment campaign against Anna, which forces her to leave Boston and head back home to Baton Rouge, which is where she is from and where her family still lives.
Rabbi Kluger, on the other hand, is looking for a pulpit of his own – even though he’s had a prior successful career working as a programmer for Google. He’s also decided to break off a relationship with a woman he says he loves, Deborah, because she wouldn’t even consider moving with him to the boonies – in this case, Baton Rouge.
Now, that particular aspect of the story really resonated with me. Here we have a rabbi who doesn’t really want to move to a community which is looking for a new rabbi (after the previous rabbi has died suddenly), but he figures he’ll take the position – until something better turns up.
Frankly, given the fact that neither Anna nor Adam is looking forward to living in Baton Rouge – for different reasons, I was expecting the book to turn into a typical rom com where two ill-starred people find love by being thrust together in unfortunate circumstances.
But The Rebbe of Baton Rouge isn’t that kind of book – much to my delight – and surprise. Sure, Anna and Adam do connect – although I won’t ruin the surprise by telling you what happens in the end, but their connection is more a result of their both respecting one another and having an honest appreciation of the plight that has led both of them to Baton Rouge. (Anna is actually pursued by a handsome Jewish doctor in Baton Rouge, while Adam’s former girlfriend is also quite beautiful – and still cares for him deeply, so it’s not as if Anna and Adam are two losers thrown together after having been rejected by others). They both need to decide whether they are willing to make certain concessions for the sake of ending up just “comfortable,” rather than truly fulfilled.
What I especially appreciated was the manner in which Rabbi Adam especially, comes to find the charm of serving as a rabbi to a small, and very unfunded congregation, so rewarding. There’s a complication to his position though: While he’s the rabbi of a very small Reform congregation, the rabbi of the only other Reform congregation in Baton Rouge, whose membership is much larger, has his sights set on absorbing the members of the smaller congregation into his own.
And frankly – it makes total sense for the two congregations to merge. (Now, haven’t we seen this same scenario played out in Winnipeg?) In fact, a major part of the book is taken up with Rabbi Adam seeking a better paying position elsewhere in the U.S. (in this case, Santa Barbara) because he’s very concerned his own congregation is about to be swallowed up by the larger congregation – and he’s worried that he will end playing second fiddle to a dominant, longer serving rabbi.
As for Anna, she tries to make the best of a bad situation by accepting a temporary position teaching English composition to the members of the Louisiana State University football team – which provides both some comic relief, but also puts her into another embarrassing situation when she is accused of becoming too close with the star of the football team – even though her intentions are totally above board (and so are the football star’s).
Through into the mix an intriguing sub plot about a Hasid ghost who appears every so often in Rabbi Adam’s life – to offer sage advice when Adam is at his lowest points. There is an explanation for why the ghost appears, but I wont’ spoil it here.
One other thing – the book is full of Yiddishkeit. Each chapter has a Yiddish title (there’s a glossary at the end in case you don’t understand the words) and there’s a fair bit of Yiddish sprinkled throughout the book. (After all, Anna is a Yiddish professor – not that she uses Yiddish in her everyday speech. It just gives the book a real “haimish” feel.)
I ought to mention something about the authors: Jennifer Anne Moses and Stuart Green. Jennifer Moses is an accomplished novelist (having written seven previous works of fiction, along with two memoirs), while Stuart Green is a Rutgers law professor who’s also written several books on the law. They began writing The Rebbe of Baton Rouge together during the Covid epidemic. It’s their first jointly written book.
The dialogue in the book is sharp and well informed. It’s clear that Jennifer Moses has honed her craft – and while I was expecting the book to be full of clichés about a rabbi and a congregant having to ward off their physical attractiveness to one another – which is the primary theme of that annoying American show about a rabbi and a non-Jewish woman falling in love in “Nobody Wants This,” this book makes offers much deeper insights into many of the challenges 30 and 40 something Jews face today, including choosing careers over relationships, and the difficulty of finding meaningful relationships in the first place.
And, as for getting a rabbi to move to the boondocks – well Baton Rougers, have you ever heard of Winnipeg?
The Rebbe of Baton Rouge
By Jennifer Anne Moses and Stuart Green
Published by University of Louisiana at Lafayette Press, 2026
202 pages
Available on Amazon
Features
You might not like what this article has to say about what happened on October 7 and the aftermath
By MARTY GREEN I just read a very disturbing article in Ha’aretz about the treatment of Arab prisoners in Israeli detention. 71-year-old Dr. Mazen Rantisi was recently released after 127 days in detention, and he told Amira Hass about conditions on the inside. No, he was not hung upside-down and beaten; his fingernails were not pulled out or his bones broken. That is not the Jewish way. Without getting into details, the conditions he describes are more along the lines of filth, enforced “discomfort”, hunger, and daily humiliations. And yes, occasional kindness from one guard or another. All in all, treatment no better (and probably often worse) than our own hostages received while they were being held in Gaza.
Which brings me to the point of this article. We like to justify our devastation of Gaza by reminding the world that the declared purpose of Hamas’s invaders was to kill every single Jew they could get their hands on…man, woman, or child. “It’s right there in their Charter!” we proclaim.
We, on the hand, were perfectly blameless in our conduct of the war. “We dropped leaflets to warn people of impending attacks”. “Civilian casualties were because Hamas used them as human shields”. And our trump card: “Hamas could have ended the war at any moment by simply releasing the hostages”.
Could they really have? The last hostages were released a year ago but we are still killing “militants” every single day…some 1,600 since October 10th 2005. (A figure not disputed by Israeli authorities…and considerably more than the 1200 Israeli’s killed on October 7th.) It seems we continue to carry out targeted killings of every single Gaza resident who we can identify as having participated in the October 7th operation…even if those targeted killings involve “collateral damage”.
Yes, we had every justification to invade Gaza to rescue our hostages. But on October 7th weren’t there already thousands of Arab prisoners being held “hostage” in our own prisons, including 1,300 being held without criminal charges or pending trial under our “administrative detention” system? And if the conditions were anything close to those described by Dr. Rantisi, was the need for action (at least from Hamas’s viewpoint) to liberate those prisoners – by whatever means possible – any less than the subsequent need for us to liberate our own hostages?
Does any of this justify the unspeakable cruelties perpetrated by Hamas on October 7th? This is a difficult question to answer, because those cruelties and acts of barbarism were so…well, unspeakable…that Israel has for the most part refrained from posting the evidence online. Yet some details have come out little by little. For one thing, contrary to early claims, it does not seem that any babies were murdered by being placed alive in microwave ovens. Yes, it is all but certain that individual acts of wanton cruelty occurred, but let us look at some actual numbers: specifically, rapes and murders.
But we are going to analyze those in the context of what we will presume, for the sake of argument, to have been a “military operation” whose purpose was the taking of hostages for the “legitimate” purpose of negotiating the release of the detainees being improperly held in Israeli prisons. What are the numbers? And how do they compare with the numbers from our Gaza operation? You should stop reading right now if you don’t like where this is going. . . .
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Okay, let us continue. Of the 1200 Israeli casualties, 373 were members of security forces. That’s almost a third. So 800 deaths were civilians…that would be what we call “collateral damage” when they are Palestinian deaths. Then let us call them the same when they are ours. We pride ourselves on the low ratio of “collateral damage” we inflicted on Gaza, claiming 20 to 30 thousand armed combatants out of 70,000 total casualties. Well, then evidently our ratio of “collateral damage” is not better than that of Hamas.
(And by the way, how do we count the three unarmed Israeli escapees we killed? If they had turned out to be Arabs would they have been counted as enemy combatants (despite being unarmed) or merely as “collateral damage”? Clearly, we had no compunction about killing unarmed individuals who might have had concealed weapons. Should Hamas have been more scrupulous than us in terms of who they killed in the course of their operation?)
Now let’s look at some percentages. The biggest single site for casualties was the Nova festival, where some 350 were killed….about 10 percent of the total number there. After that, some nearby kibbutzes and settlements were hard hit…Kibbutz Be’eri, 132 dead out of a population of 1,000; Kfar Aza, 80 out of 800 (some of those were security personnel); and communities like Nir Oz, Nahal Oz, and Kissufim: 170 out of 1100.
So the numbers killed in the most heavily hit communities was 10 to 15 percent. These are devastating numbers but they are hard to reconcile with the claim that Hamas intended to murder every single Jew they could lay their hands on. Israeli resistance was stiff in many of these locales, as evidenced by the high number of military casualties. So many of the civilian deaths must have been, (once again from the point of view of Hamas) “collateral damage”.
We all know the story of the one killer who boasted gleefully of having killed ten Jews all by himself. But if we reckon that at least half the civilian casualties were “legitimate” (by the same definition we used for civilian casualties in Gaza), that they were merely “collateral damage”, then no more than two to three hundred civilian deaths would have been gratuitous murders. Those murders could have all been plausibly committed by no more than 30 to 50 of the six thousand invaders in total….less than one percent. Yet in the post-ceasefire world, it remains our declared intention to kill every invader who participated in October 7th.
What about women and children? Women were close to 300 civilian casualties out of 800. Children….perhaps 40 altogether, including exactly seven under the age of six. How many of the 70,000 casualties in Gaza were children under the age of six? We cannot know the true figure with any certainty, but it is hard to believe that the comparison would favor Israel on a percentage basis.
What about rape? There is little doubt that rapes took place at several locations, with many of the victims being subsequently killed. But no actual numbers are readily available. Surely the great majority of the 300 female casualties were mere “collateral damage” and not rape victims. All we can guess is that the number of women raped and then killed could have been anywhere from 10 to 100. But again, these are mere guesses.
Survivors of rape is another story. Only one woman has come forward to publicly testify that she was raped. How many more may have kept quiet or reported their ordeals only privately is unknown. But I would find it hard to believe that in the chaos of the day’s events, that 100 women were raped and only one survived to tell her story out loud. Yes, rape happened. But it could hardly have been on any kind of mass scale. Especially considering the eagerness of the Israeli side to publicize stories of atrocities.
Finally, it is important to remember that this operation was not a “walk in the park” for Hamas. It is said that out of an elite contingent of 3800 fighters, between twelve and fifteen hundred died on Israeli territory. More Arabs than Jews died on October 7th.
Those special forces were followed by perhaps 2000 civilian looters, many of them armed. To the extent that atrocities occurred, it seems highly likely that they came largely from perhaps a hundred individuals out of this contingent of opportunistic marauders, rather than the disciplined forces that were evidently fighting and dying to complete their assigned mission.
And what of the success of the mission itself? If it was intended to give Israel a black eye, it was hardly a failure. And if it was intended to secure bargaining chips in the form of hostages, then the 4000 Arabs released from custody would have to be a win for Hamas. What about the 70,000 dead? Well, we all know that human life means very little to the Arabs. Don’t we? We’ve said it often enough.
If the Arabs don’t regard their own casualties as human beings, maybe it’s time we started to. And going back to where we began this story, with Dr. Rantisi: let’s remember that we are supposed to be responsible for the humane treatment of prisoners. I can’t help but wonder if we haven’t somehow decided to make those who remain in our custody endure extra suffering on behalf of those we were forced to release.
Features
A Sensation at the Bible Contest in Jerusalem
The final of the International Bible Contest, Chidon HaTanakh, takes place every year on Israeli Independence Day (Yom HaAtzmaut). The event is broadcast live across the country, and American contestants appear each year — yet few expect them to win. History, however, records exceptions. In 1988, two teenagers from New York challenged decades of Israeli dominance, and one of them accomplished the impossible.
A TV Quiz Show Where the Subject Is the Bible
Chidon HaTanakh is an annual international competition testing knowledge of the Hebrew Scriptures — something like Jeopardy, except that instead of pop culture, every question revolves around the Torah. It is the country’s largest televised event, followed by the entire nation; the nation’s top officials are invariably present in the hall. Students travel from around the world, yet the balance of power is predictable. In more than half a century of the contest’s existence, only three Americans have taken the top prize. The crown almost always goes to an Israeli.
Why Israel Holds an Almost Permanent Advantage
The reasons for the host country’s dominance are less mystical than pragmatic. In Israel, Chidon is surrounded by state attention and public prestige, especially within the Religious Zionism community. Schools release promising candidates from regular classes for dedicated preparation; some are trained almost from infancy. The Israeli stage covers around 400 chapters from the most demanding books, while the American national qualifier covers roughly 100 from relatively accessible ones. Finally, the language barrier is enormous: absorbing hundreds of chapters of biblical Hebrew is incomparably easier when modern Hebrew is one’s native tongue. The language question frequently proves a stumbling block beyond Israel’s borders as well — kykNET is launching a new show in South Africa, Die 1% Klub, and one of the requirements for participants is knowledge of Afrikaans. This already eliminates a significant proportion of potential contestants from outside South Africa, even though there are formally no citizenship requirements.
For foreigners, the contest is just one of many extracurricular activities; for Israelis, it is a matter of national importance.
A Joke That Turned Out to Be an Accurate Diagnosis
As far back as the 1970s, the celebrated Israeli comedy troupe Lul turned the predictability of the results into a sketch that became widely quoted. “We are at the Chidon final,” gasps the host. “Of 60 contestants, three remain. The Scandinavian has 37 points, the Sudanese has 42, and the Israeli has 473 out of a possible 400. The final question is worth 13 points. Everything can still change!” The sketch captured a cultural phenomenon in which suspense existed only on paper.
A Quiz or a Money Game
The TV quiz show format built around the Hebrew Scriptures fits naturally within Jewish tradition. Competition in Torah knowledge is encouraged, and in religious circles it is perceived as an extension of study. Entertainment shows built on gambling are a different matter. The wheel of fortune, bets, multipliers, and cash prizes — as seen in Playtech Live Game Shows, information about which is publicly available — are also presented as televised spectacle complete with a studio and a charismatic host. From a religious standpoint, however, the picture is more complex. To simplify greatly and set aside the distinctions between streams of Judaism: the dividing line runs through money. A person who simply watches the broadcast as entertainment and risks nothing is not participating in gambling. One who places a wager is playing, and under halakha such conduct is either prohibited or, in more lenient interpretations, condemned. In Chidon, only points and reputation are at stake, and the only thing a contestant can wager is years of preparation. In 1988, those years unexpectedly outweighed decades of Israeli tradition.
The Exception That Happened in 1988
That year, two American teenagers arrived in Jerusalem not as also-rans. Jeremy Wieder and Noah Feldman were considered genuine contenders for the title. Both knew the material down to the finest detail. But the story of their rivalry ended in a way no one had predicted.
The American Qualifier, Where the Favorite Was Not the Future Champion
The national Chidon in the United States is divided into four divisions: two each for middle and high school, separately in English and in Hebrew. The strongest contestants typically emerge from the senior Hebrew-language division. In June 1987, that division was won by Feldman — with a near-perfect score. Wieder finished second. Contest organizer Dr. Mitchell Orlian noted that the gap between them was negligible, though the American program’s scope was considerably narrower than the Israeli one.
Who Wieder and Feldman Were
Wieder grew up in Monsey, New York, in the family of a physics professor. He studied at the Ashar and Spring Valley yeshivas and then at the Yeshiva University boys’ high school. An experienced synagogue Torah reader, he was competing in the international final for the first time and was remembered by rivals as someone who “simply knew everything.”
Feldman came from an academic family in Cambridge, Massachusetts; his parents taught at Harvard and MIT. He attended Maimonides School in Brookline and displayed intellectual brilliance from an early age. He won the national qualifier having lost only half a point — he had confused the dimensions of two sets of curtains of the Tabernacle. “I was off by about a cubit and a half,” he recalled later.
A Year of Preparation, Two Different Approaches
From September 1987, Wieder — who had enrolled early at Yeshiva University — devoted at least one hour each day to reviewing the material. His foundation was a thorough knowledge of the Pentateuch, which made up a third of the program, but the remaining sections required months of additional work.
Feldman structured his preparation differently. His school released him from classes during the Prophets (Nevi’im) period, and he used the 42-minute slot to memorize texts with traditional cantillation. In the final months, he discovered in the Harvard library an archive of Chidon questions and answers dating from the 1950s and used it as a training tool.
The Two Weeks Before the Broadcast That Viewers Never See
Foreign participants arrive two weeks before the final. The program includes tours of the country, meetings with rabbis, politicians, and the Prime Minister, and a visit to a military base — all guided by mentors drawn from former finalists. Informally, the whole experience is known as “Tanakh camp” — a project for strengthening Jewish communal bonds around Israel and the biblical text.
It was here that the Americans first grasped the scale of the competition. Among the contestants was a student from behind the Iron Curtain who had arrived with a teacher from Hungary, and Canadian champion Sean Zelig Aster. The Israelis displayed photographic memory: one of them moved a finger across his forehead as if turning pages and recited entire passages from memory. “They were a little frightening,” admitted another American contestant, Jeremy Spierer. Feldman summed up the contrast this way: in America, he had simply been told — “Noah, there’s a Tanakh quiz, you like that sort of thing, go tomorrow.”
The Final at the Jerusalem Theatre and the Role of the Written Exam
On Israeli Independence Day (Yom HaAtzmaut), thousands of spectators filled the Jerusalem Theatre, where in earlier years David Ben-Gurion had personally checked contestants’ answers against his own Bible. Television cameras broadcast every movement on stage.
A significant portion of the contest, however, is decided before the broadcast. Several days before the televised rounds, contestants sit a written exam of 50–60 questions, and the points scored carry over into the final. The questions on stage are made easier so that no one is publicly humiliated, meaning that anyone who loses too many points in the written portion is effectively out of contention before the cameras roll.
In 1988, the written exam proved unusually lenient and even included a multiple-choice section. Several contestants achieved a perfect score. “I was lucky,” Wieder said. “The Israelis knew the material better than anyone, and the only reason I had a chance was the unusually easy written exam.” Sixteen contestants advanced to the televised rounds; Wieder and Feldman were among them.
On stage, the foreign contestants added color: Aster placed a small Canadian flag in front of him, and Feldman, in the Israeli manner, answered with long quotations, reciting a passage from the Song of Songs from memory. Contestants were eliminated one by one, but several maintained a perfect score into the decisive round. The final question was posed, as tradition dictates, by Prime Minister Yitzhak Shamir. Contestants were given ten biblical occurrences of the word shalom and asked to identify the source of each and provide commentary. Wieder answered 19 of the 20 points correctly. The result: a tie for first place with an Israeli contestant of Tunisian descent, Zehava Haddad. Aster finished fourth, Feldman fifth.
Shock, Rumors, and Mutual Suspicion
The result triggered a wave of conspiracy theories. The American participants believed that Wieder had in fact won outright, but that the judges had not dared award the gold to a foreigner and had arranged a tie instead. The Israeli side advanced the mirror-image accusation: one of the finalists publicly claimed that the political establishment had wanted the prize to go neither to an Israeli nor to a woman. The organizers rejected both versions.
The Winner Himself Called It Luck
Wieder consistently emphasized that his success was a confluence of circumstances. In a “normal” year, with a rigorous written exam, he would never have reached the final question. Nevertheless, the record stands: the first American victory since 1973, when the prize was taken by Leora Reich of the Flatbush yeshiva in Brooklyn. The next comparable result came only in 2013, when Yishai Eisenberg shared first place.
Two Paths After the Contest
Wieder received rabbinic ordination (semikha) and became the youngest head of the RIETS rabbinical school in Yeshiva University’s history. He also earned a doctorate in rabbinic literature from New York University and today teaches Talmud and Tanakh. “The knowledge of Prophets (Nevi’im) and Writings (Ketuvim) that the preparation gave me has remained a resource for life,” he has noted.
Feldman graduated from Harvard with the highest grade point average in his class, received a Rhodes Scholarship to Oxford, completed Yale Law School, and clerked for Supreme Court Justice David Souter. He later advised the Coalition Provisional Authority in Iraq and became a professor at Harvard Law School. He described Chidon as “one of the most important educational experiences of his life,” one that opened access to medieval Hebrew poetry, to English-language literary corpora saturated with biblical allusions, and that deepened his inner connection to a foundational text.
A Rare American Victory Still Debated Today
Over more than half a century of Chidon HaTanakh history, Americans have won only a handful of times. The 1988 final stands out against the backdrop of prolonged Israeli dominance for several reasons at once: an anomalously lenient written exam that for the first time opened a genuine path to victory for foreign contestants; a tie for first place that some considered fair and others politically motivated; and two careers that grew from a single youthful competition.
