Exile at home: A matter of being out of place

This article employs Hannah Arendt's theorizing about assimilation to consider how sovereign citizens of a nation state might nevertheless experience a sense of exile. It builds on Aziza Khazzoom's notion of a ‘chain of Orientalism’ to suggest that the assimilation of Europe's Jews to Enlightenment ideals has had ongoing repercussions among Jews in the modern state of Israel. The article focuses on what it means to be Jewish in terms of religious observance, and who feels at home in the Jewish state. Employing vignettes from recent ethnographic fieldwork, it raises questions about the modern nation state's capacity to create conditions in which its own ‘people’ can flourish. In this case, Israel has claimed to make it possible for the Jews to flourish, in Arendt's terms, ‘as Jews’, but it is far from clear what ‘as Jews’ would, could or should mean. This leads the author to suggest that Israel has a Jewish problem.     

The cloak,the cage and the fog of sanctity: the Zionist mission and the role of religion among Arab Jews*

Abstract. This paper examines the Zionist national mission to mobilise Jewish ethnic communities in Arab countries, in the period preceding the establishment of the state of Israel. It draws on archival texts to trace a phenomenon known in Jewish historiography as ‘Shadarut’; a voluntary religious practice of fundraising which was widespread in the Jewish world for hundreds of years. The paper shows how this pre‐national religious practice (to be labelled ‘the cloak’) was adopted and incorporated into the Zionist national project (‘the cage’), first generating tension between the Jewish religious establishment and the Zionist ‘secular’ movement, and then blurring the distinction between Judaism as a religion and Judaism as a national identity. The paper shows how secular emissaries of European origin arrived in Arab countries as religious emissaries (‘shadarim’) and aspired to discover a strong religious fervour among members of the Jewish communities there. This is because in the eyes of the Zionist (ostensibly secular) movement, being religious Jews in Islamic countries was a criterion that demarcated them from their Arab neighbours. This analysis entails two main conclusions: (a) that contrary to the experience of the European Zionist national movement in which secularism and the revolt against the Jewish religion played a central role, in Islamic countries it was particularly the Jewish religion, and not secular nationalism that was used to mobilise the Jewish community into the Jewish national movement; (b) that the ‘shadarut’ practice refuses to yield to the epistemological imperatives and the common divisions that arise from the binary distinction between ‘religiousness’ and ‘secularity’, particularly in the Middle East. Some implications for contemporary Israeli society are discussed.     

Malagasy Judaism: The ‘who is a Jew?’ conundrum comes to Madagascar

With the virtual disappearance of the centuries‐old Jewish community in Ethiopia through wholescale emigration to Israel, African Jewry is in the process of reconstituting itself into new Jewish movements (NJMs). One of these NJMs is emerging in Madagascar. However, the number of Malagasy adherents to normative (i.e. rabbinic) Judaism is eclipsed by those within the larger society who affirm genealogical descent from ancient Israel – and therefore the mantle of ‘Jew’. They do so while practising Christianity. Thus, the longstanding, sensitive question ‘who is a Jew?’ has migrated from Israel, America and Europe to Africa and Madagascar. This article introduces an array of Malagasy ‘Judaizing’ communities – believers in an Israelite Lost Tribe origin, descendants of a Jewish convert to Islam, Leviticus‐like ‘Aaronites’ – before focusing on Malagasies practising normative Judaism. The new Jews of Madagascar extend the cultural and geographic scope of new religious movements literature to greater Africa and, by extension, to societies in the developing world.     

The Jewish presence in Granada

In contrast to almost all other Spanish cities and townships, nothing tangible survives in Granada that might be reminiscent of Judaism. There is no trace of an ancient synagogue on either side of the River Darro, neither on the hills nor on the plain. On the right bank, region of the oldest settlement, rises the hill of widest dimension, the ‘Albaicín’. On the left bank ascends the steeper hill ending in several summits: a pointed one atop the ‘Mauror’ slope is crowned by the ‘Torres Bermejas’ (Red Towers); the other, the majestic plateau ‘Sabika’, carries the Alhambra. to the west of the hills, the city on the plain spreads outwards into the valley, the ‘Vega’. No buildings in any of these areas reveal a Jewish past; Granada's urban nomenclature offers not the slightest hint of a former Jewish presence, and all current - and former - studies of Granada lack satisfactory information about the location of the historic Judaic quarter. There is no mention even of the last chief temple that must have existed until 1492, the year of the great exodus (decreed by Isabella and Ferdinand in this very city) of all the Jews from Spain. And yet, Granada, the town that has forgotten all about its Jews, is said to have once been known as ‘Garnāta-al-Yahūd’: Granada, city of the Jews, and later tradition has accepted this as a fact.I attempt in this study to show that, although some Jews lived there from Roman times, all of Granada never was a ‘city of Jews’. Second, taking as point of departure a remark in the new Encyclopedia Judaica (1971:852) that the Jewish quarter was “not located in a single place throughout the centuries of Muslim rule”. I shall show that the earlier Jewish quarters (preceding the Muslim conquest and lasting throughout the Zirid regime) were located on the Albaicín; third, it will be demonstrated that a Jewish quarter was established on the Mauror only in Nasrid times: and fourth, I shall explain why I think that the church of San Matías was built on the foundation of the last synagogue of Granada, a ‘Gima Abrahén’, which, erroneously, is believed to have been a mosque.     

Foreign Jews in the western Alps (1938 – 43)

Abstract

This article examines the question of policy towards the Jews in the Italian occupied zone of southern France from 1940 to 1943. It develops the argument that in the World War II the Alps constituted a clearly demarcated geographical area that for Jewish refugees from all over Europe promised shelter and safety. A number of ‘exemplary cases’ (for example that of Angelo Donati) as well as an unpublished document relating to the case of ‘residence forcée’ in St Martin Vésubie, provided the opportunity for comparing different interpretations of Italian attitudes towards the Jews in those years.     

The Jewish presence in Granada

In contrast to almost all other Spanish cities and townships, nothing tangible survives in Granada that might be reminiscent of Judaism. There is no trace of an ancient synagogue on either side of the River Darro, neither on the hills nor on the plain. On the right bank, region of the oldest settlement, rises the hill of widest dimension, the ‘Albaicín’. On the left bank ascends the steeper hill ending in several summits: a pointed one atop the ‘Mauror’ slope is crowned by the ‘Torres Bermejas’ (Red Towers); the other, the majestic plateau ‘Sabika’, carries the Alhambra. to the west of the hills, the city on the plain spreads outwards into the valley, the ‘Vega’. No buildings in any of these areas reveal a Jewish past; Granada's urban nomenclature offers not the slightest hint of a former Jewish presence, and all current - and former - studies of Granada lack satisfactory information about the location of the historic Judaic quarter. There is no mention even of the last chief temple that must have existed until 1492, the year of the great exodus (decreed by Isabella and Ferdinand in this very city) of all the Jews from Spain. And yet, Granada, the town that has forgotten all about its Jews, is said to have once been known as ‘Garnāta-al-Yahūd’: Granada, city of the Jews, and later tradition has accepted this as a fact.I attempt in this study to show that, although some Jews lived there from Roman times, all of Granada never was a ‘city of Jews’. Second, taking as point of departure a remark in the new Encyclopedia Judaica (1971:852) that the Jewish quarter was “not located in a single place throughout the centuries of Muslim rule”. I shall show that the earlier Jewish quarters (preceding the Muslim conquest and lasting throughout the Zirid regime) were located on the Albaicín; third, it will be demonstrated that a Jewish quarter was established on the Mauror only in Nasrid times: and fourth, I shall explain why I think that the church of San Matías was built on the foundation of the last synagogue of Granada, a ‘Gima Abrahén’, which, erroneously, is believed to have been a mosque.     

On the use of Nazi sources for the study of Fascist Jewish policy in the Italian-occupied territories: The case of south-eastern France,November 1942–July 1943

ABSTRACT

This article discusses the use of Nazi sources for the study of Fascist policy towards Jews in 1940–1943. By exposing the gap between the Nazi perception of and the reality of the Fascist policy towards Jews in Italian-occupied south-eastern France, the article demonstrates that Rome’s refusal to hand over Jews for deportation did not contradict the fundamental anti-Semitic nature of its Jewish policy in that context. Thus, the article highlights the risks for historians to read Fascist Jewish policy through Nazi lenses and thereby fall prey to stereotypical characterizations of the Italians as insubordinate, scheming and driven by what an S.S. official disparagingly labelled a ‘Jewish-friendly attitude’. At the same time, the article shows that, when combined with Fascist sources, Nazi sources can help shed light on the conceptual divide that underpinned the Axis partners’ disagreement over the means by which the ‘Jewish problem’ should be ‘solved’, thereby exposing the analytical limitations of the current prevailing understanding of the Fascist refusal to hand over the Jews as purely the outcome of ‘pragmatic’ opportunistic considerations.     

Heretic or Traitor? Spinoza’s Excommunication and the Challenge That Judaism Poses to the Study of Religious Diversity

ABSTRACT

When political theorists talk about “religious diversity,” they usually intend the multiplicity of “religions” in a given society. Yet we now know that the secular, liberal framing of the problematic presupposes a controversial definition of “religion.” My primary goal, in this paper, is to reorient scholarly discussion around what we might call “the critical religion conception of diversity” – not the multiplicity of “religions,” but the myriad ways that the sacred intersects with national and political identity, some of which resist assimilation to the “religious” paradigm. Toward this end, I relate a story about Spinoza’s Hebrew reception in the interwar period. For Zionist intellectuals, Spinoza symbolized the deformations that “religion” imposed on Judaism’s self-understanding and the constraints that it placed on Jewish intellectual horizons. Studying the Zionist critique of “religion” exposes the limitations of received theoretical frameworks, which cannot address the kinds of diversity that were politically consequential for twentieth-century Jews.     

Front and Back Covers,Volume 33, Number 6. December 2017

Cover caption, volume 33 issue 6 Front Cover Rescuing tradition from the rubbish, a Jewish man in Israel recovers discarded sacred books. This scene serves as a metaphor for the struggle to hold on to tradition in the modern nation state of Israel. The achievement of political sovereignty is thought to be a form of liberation. It is supposed to bring freedom to the subaltern nations who attain it. But can the modern state create the conditions in which a once persecuted minority can finally flourish? Ethnonational states are always exclusionary. Israel inflicts the conditions that European Jews once suffered onto Palestinians, who have been displaced, disinherited, walled off; and even when they are citizens, they are always second class. But what about those at the center of sovereign citizenship: ‘the people’ themselves? Hannah Arendt reminded us that Jews were never quite at home in Europe. They had to be exceptional to be accepted. They had to be Jews, but not be like Jews, relegating their identity to the private sphere: ‘men in the street and Jews in the synagogue’. But these forces of ‘emancipation’ did not make them citizens like all others. The story of modernity and secularism in Europe is also foundational to nationalism and claims of self‐determination elsewhere. The question is whether or not emancipation has been achieved through political self‐determination, and if so, what such emancipation looks like. Do the forces of assimilation end with political self‐determination? Can a once persecuted people finally be liberated? Who feels free to be Jewish in the modern state of Israel? Whose cultures flourish and whose Jewish traditions can be practised freely? Who finally feels at home? And who, among the sovereign citizens of the ethnonational state, still experience a sense of exile, reflected in the need to rescue traditional texts from being tossed out with the rubbish? Back Cover: MALAGASY JUDAISM Through a warren of alleys in densely packed Antananarivo, capital of the island nation of Madagascar, there is a gated compound. Beyond the gate is a metal door to the entrance of the house within the compound. Emblazoned on it are a seven‐branched menorah and the Hebrew letter ? (shin, for Shaddai, God). Down the corridor, to the left, is a door with Hebrew writing affixed to it; behind it is a prayer room. Instead of pews or chairs, there are rugs, as one might expect to see in a mosque. This is Madagascar's synagogue, in the home of Tubiyya, the self‐taught Malagasy hazzan (Hebrew: cantor). Tubiyya stands next to his wife Miriam and their children. As with the man pictured on the front cover of this issue, Tubiyya sports payos – long strands of hair, sidelocks, that ultra‐Orthodox Jewish men grow on the sides of their faces, to obey the Old Testament commandment from the book of Leviticus 19: 7: ‘Ye shall not round off the edge‐growth of your heads, neither shalt thou diminish the corner edge‐growth of thy beard’. Most observant Jewish men do not follow this particular commandment. In this sense, the Malagasy Tubiyya and the Ashkenazi Haredim in Jerusalem (see front cover) represent small but visible minorities within the greater Jewish world. But they are outliers – both globally and locally – in a deeper, theopolitical sense: both are anti‐Zionist Haredim, rejecting the legitimacy of the Jewish State on religious grounds. The Messiah has not yet come to ‘ingather the exiles’. In the meantime, Israeli society is too secular for them. And yet, would the hawker on the front cover accept Tubiyya as a fellow Jew? Race and Jewish genealogy set them apart. This issue of ANTHROPOLOGY TODAY bookends antipodes of Jewry, where inclusion and exclusion are in constant tension.     

Italian Jews and their ‘political’ reactions to the fascist regime’s anti-Semitic campaign*

ABSTRACT

The article intends to emphasize the political redefinition of Italian Jews in reaction to the fascist aggression and its different answers ‘organized’. Since 1934 there arose strong divisions within Italian Judaism: the real issue of contention, however, did not reside in the attitude towards fascism, but in the judgement on Zionism and postponed a long-standing dynamics. A group of Jews, called ‘bandieristi’ from a magazine called La Nostra Bandiera, on the basis of a ‘fascist’ programme and anti-Zionism, tried to replace the official establishment of the Jewish representatives, the Union Community of Italian Jewish, as a reference to the fascist authorities. The Union was accused by the ‘bandieristi’ of being complicit with international Jewry and Zionism. The confrontation with fascism exasperated the Italian Judaism internal contradictions, putting in long-term dynamic light that preceded fascism and survived the early post-war years.     

Between two cities: Jewish women and exogamous marriage in medieval Catalonia

In the marriage strategies of medieval Catalan Jews, the economic security of women came second to the economic goals of families. Exogamous marriages – marriages between the Jewish communities of two different cities – exacerbated the vulnerability of Jewish wives, widows and divorcées, due in large part to restrictions on women’s travel. Women who moved in order to marry experienced greater difficulty in managing financial resources and lost access to kinship networks. When women married men from other cities, at best they found themselves unable to take advantage of the connections created by their marriages. At worst, they risked financial loss if their husbands absconded to other cities with their dowries. Five case studies drawn from thirteenth- and fourteenth-century Catalan notarial registers reveal some of the ways in which exogamous marriages disadvantaged Jewish women. The extreme case of exogamy delineates the boundaries of possibility for Jewish women in the medieval Western Mediterranean.     

Cultural tourism between local and transnational identities: Jewish heritage in Syracuse,Italy

Abstract

This article focuses on the management of heritage and cultural tourism related to the complex identity of minority groups, where different components tend to produce different visions and practices. It highlights the impacts of globalized transnational networks and influences on political, cultural and religious identities and affiliations over long distances. In fact, diverse views, approaches, perceptions and representations may lead to disagreement and conflicts even within apparently compact ethnic or religious communities. The issues related to dissonant heritage management strategies and the related authorized heritage discourse, in terms of unbalanced power relations and diverging narratives, are considered. The theme of Jewish heritage tourism (J.H.T) is analysed, with a focus on the case of Syracuse, Italy. This historically cosmopolitan and multicultural city specializes in cultural tourism and tends to develop niche products, including J.H.T, in order to strengthen and diversify its international cultural destination status. Different components of the Jewish world, as well as non-Jewish stakeholders, practice different approaches to heritage tourism. Actors, discourses and reasons behind Jewish culture management and promotion will be highlighted and the reactions, perceptions and suggestions by the various stakeholders and groups involved will be portrayed, with the aim of contributing to the discussion about the complexity of niche heritage tourism processes in a multi-ethnic site.     

The Social and Legal Status of Jews in the Grand Duchy of Lithuania and its Influence on the Status of Tatars and Karaites

Abstract

At the end of the fourteenth century, when Lithuania was baptized, three non-Christian communities — Jews, Tatars, and Karaites — began to settle in the territory of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, and their legal and social status began to take shape. The segregation of Jews from Christians was legitimized in the first privilege granted for the Jews of Brest in 1388 by the Grand Duke Vytautas (Witold, Vita&?t) the Great. This privilege, which adapted Western variations of the Judenrecht to Lithuanian realities and introduced some local improvements, began the process of the formation of the legal and social status of non-Christians in the Grand Duchy. The expulsion of Jews to the margins of the estate system of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, the establishment of the incumbency of the iudex iudeorum and internal community court, and the fully formed relations between the Jews and the legal system of the Grand Duchy were used as reference points in trying to define the legal status of the Tatars and the Karaites. In the case of Karaites, Magdeburg law, which was already known in Lithuania, was adopted. Grand Duke Casimir Jagiellon granted such a privilege to the Trakai (Troki) community in 1441, and the Karaite community’s life was organized according to the principles of the existing model of urban self-government. For some time the legal status of the Karaites differed from that of the Jews. Despite its uniqueness, Magdeburg law was not applied to the community’s everyday life, and the Karaites gradually absorbed the privileges granted for the Jews (especially that of 1646). The Tatars, who were socially stratified within their community and thus had different interests, were never granted a common privilege. Those ‘Jewish’ legal and social models, which were adapted for the Tatar community, were best revealed in the Third Lithuania Statute of 1588, which contained more regulations for non-Christians than its two predecessors. The content of its articles shows similarities of the social and legal status of non-Christians and the entrenchment of the social strata of non-Christians. The features of the model applied for regulating the state’s relations with the Jewish community might also be observed in the state’s relations with the Roma (Gipsy) community, which, although Christian, was considered unacceptable in the Grand Duchy of Lithuania because of its way of life.     

The good and the bad of the same: On the political value of historical repetition in Angola

ABSTRACT

In this article I discuss processes of investment in historicity as an ideological, political and moral problem. Focusing on the study of religious and political movements in Angola, I address the problem of historical repetition as a form of ‘acting upon time’ which, in similar terms to Walter Benjamin’s citation a l’ordre du jour, contests the idea of temporal irreversibility. I propose that this contestation is multiplex and can produce ‘good’ as well as ‘bad’ historical repetitions.     

The Jewish diaspora and Israel: belonging at distance?

The involvement of diasporas in the advent of modern nationalism is not a new phenomenon: already in the 19th century some diasporas wanted to ‘normalise’ their national existence by building a state of their own. However, with the growing globalisation trend in the 199'0s , especially in the areas of transportation and communication, Benedict Anderson put forward the idea of long‐distance nationalism (LDN), as a new way of linking diasporas and the national project and thus creating a more intense sense of belonging. LDN has been characterised by him as having two main features: its unaccountability which allows for intense political radicalism, and its instrumental function for strengthening ethnic identity in the diaspora and thus a sense of belonging. I will test those hypotheses in the case of the archetypal Jewish diaspora.     

Tannery and Duhem on the Concept of a System in the History of Philosophy and History of Science

ABSTRACT

This article examines John Toland’s Reasons for Naturalizing the Jews (1714) by placing it alongside other elements of his engagement with Jewish history, Mosaic principles and wider “Hebraica” – specifically, an appendix to his Nazarenus (1718) and his Origines Judaicae (1709). Although Toland’s case for Jewish naturalization shows the strong influence of Locke’s case for political and religious toleration, and also of a general “mercantilism”, it is argued that one of its main characteristics is a philosophical naturalism, shown in its treatment of the human species as a whole. Furthermore, it is also argued that this same naturalism is evident throughout Toland’s engagement with Jewish history and Mosaic thought. Accordingly, when we “fold” these works into each other, we find each enhancing our understanding of the others – not just as examples of Toland’s treatment of “Jewish affairs”, but also as illustrations of a consistent conceptual materialism. To emphasize this, the article concludes by suggesting that the figure of Rabbi Simone Luzzatto, author of a 1638 plea for tolerance, provides an important clue in understanding the links between Toland’s political injunctions and the philosophical foundation on which they are built.     

History of Israelite religion or old testament theology? Jewish interest in biblical theology

Abstract

Both branches — the “history of the Israelite religion” and “Old Testament theology” — are significant and have equal merit. However, there are also distinct demarcations and deep differences between them. Thus, the research of each must be separate and follow unique clearly defined methods so as to avoid confusion. It is interesting to discover the theological guidelines of the Biblical authors, editors and canonists. There is also a necessity to be aware of the theological guidelines that control the Biblical corpora; to read the Bible for religious messages and moral values which may be derived from it. Nevertheless, it is impractical to look for or to impose one sole idea on the whole Bible. Christian theologians should not introduce any sort of anti‐Semitic or anti‐Jewish theology. Jews are interested in the theology of the Hebrew Bible and in Biblical theology. The main reasons for the limited interest of Jewish scholars in Biblical theology is inherent in the youthfulness of scholarly Jewish Biblical research; the focus of Jewish‐Israeli interest on Biblical research in the last generations; and in the formation of higher educational institutions first and foremost in Israel as well as in some Jewish institutions in America.     

Religious Transformations in the Middle Ages: Towards a New Archaeological Agenda

UNDERSTANDING RELIGIOUS CHANGE between the collapse of the Roman Empire and the Reformation forms one of the cornerstones of medieval archaeology, but has been riven by period, denominational, and geographical divisions. This paper lays the groundwork for a fundamental rethink of archaeological approaches to medieval religions, by adopting an holistic framework that places Christian, pagan, Islamic and Jewish case studies of religious transformation in a long-term, cross-cultural perspective. Focused around the analytical themes of ‘hybridity and resilience’ and ‘tempo and trajectories’, our approach shifts attention away from the singularities of national narratives of religious conversion, towards a deeper understanding of how religious beliefs, practices and identity were renegotiated by medieval people in their daily lives.     

‘Stepbrothers from the Middle East’: negotiations of racial identity among Jewish-Israeli immigrants in Toronto

This paper explores the complex negotiations of racial identity experienced on migration. Working from a series of 48 interviews with racially diverse Israeli immigrants to Toronto, and drawing on literature on the assimilated Canadian-born Jewish population, I contrast the racial histories of Canadian and Israeli Jews – groups whose identities have historically crossed intersections of race, ethnicity and religion. By exploring the participants’ accounts of being differently whitened and blackened in Israel and Toronto, and their own interpretations of and responses to these processes, I expose the spatial contingencies of racial hierarchies, meanings and identifications. I also introduce the under-studied Mizrahi/Sephardi Jewish community – who are demographically prevalent in Israel yet largely unknown in North America, and are subject to complex racial and ethno-cultural tensions in both spaces – into discussions of Canadian Jewishness.