VENICE, THE JEWS & CHABAD

Back to the ghetto

• By ELLIOT JAGER


A recent visit to Venice tells me that, for many Jews, ritual and a sense of connection to Jewish civilization override theology.

I had heard that Venice was a place of romance; a magical city built on canals. But once there, we also discovered Venice's 'Jewish problem.' Two factions - one foreign, small and missionizing, the other indigenous, threatened and struggling - are engaged in a love-hate relationship.

Jews began to settle in the area in the 13th century. Venice's economic elite needed them; the Church despised them. Which is how it came to be that on March 29, 1516 the Venetian Council of Ten established the world's first ghetto for their 700 Jews:

'The Jews must all live together... in order to prevent their roaming about at night: Let there be built two Gates... which ...shall be opened in the morning... and closed at midnight by four Christian guards appointed and paid by the Jews....'

Predictably, it was to this ghetto to which we were drawn for our 'getaway' from the pressures of life in Israel. We checked into the Locanda del Ghetto Hotel. Outside our window was the ghetto courtyard where today the frailties of, and contending hopes for Jewish life in Venice play themselves out. Here is the center of the established community, whose religious life is led by Chief Rabbi Elia Richetti, as well as the power base of Chabad-Lubavitch's Rami Banin.

Both are sympathetic characters; both Italian-born, both Orthodox.

But Richetti is the conservative. He wants to preserve the local community and minister to its 300 faithful. The 300,000 Jewish tourists who visit the ghetto annually interest him only mildly.

For Banin those tourists are everything. The Chabad emissary has flawless Hebrew and American-accented English. He's singularly dedicated to spreading the rebbe's message.

The official community or kehilla 'shares' the courtyard and its environs with Lubavitch. Its Jewish museum daily draws scores of visitors - Jewish and non-Jewish alike - and is a gateway to the ghetto's five historic synagogues. There are also an old age home, art galleries, tourist shops and a kosher bakery/grocery. There's an eruv and even a mikve.

But it is Chabad's in-your-face presence that appropriates the limelight: A storefront yeshiva for a dozen American and Israeli rabbinical students, an outreach center, and the strategically located Lubavitch-run Gam-Gam restaurant.

I davened several mornings with Chabad, praying opposite a picture of the rebbe and a wall adorned with the messianic catchphrase: Yehi adoneinu moreinu v'rabbeinu melech ha'moshiah l'olam vaed! (Long live our master, teacher, and rabbi, the King Messiah, for ever and ever.)

The official community distances itself from Chabad, though Richetti sometimes turns to the yeshiva boys for a minyan and certifies Gam-Gam's kashrut. As both pulpit rabbi and neighborhood coordinator, he's proud that some 20 families order meat and other kosher provisions from Milan.

The kehilla stays afloat thanks to a combination of state aid, a communal tax, and property revenue - not to mention tourism.


MEANWHILE, SLOWLY, methodically, Chabad appears committed to usurping Judaism in Venice. But this is not Bangkok; there's an indigenous community that won't roll over and die.

Chabad appears to have deep pockets. It set up shop 12 years ago and now plans to open a kindergarten (to compete with the kehilla's kindergarten attended by 12 youngsters). Richetti notes that no Jewish child has been born in Venice in three years, and is suspicious of Chabad's intentions.

But to this outsider, the competition seems like a plus.

I came to Venice with grudging admiration for Chabad. Yes, I know it's a cult dependent on the charismatic 'presence' of the rebbe, but I'd rather see Jews hook up with Chabad than with Hare Krishna. If the alternative is nihilism and alienation, I can live with Chabad's remedy. At the same time, I'm intolerant of Chabad's ability to get away with promulgating the heresy that the rebbe, who died in 1994, is the Living Messiah.

But that's theology. Let's talk supper.

After Friday night prayers in one of the historic but melancholy-looking synagogues, we went off to Gam-Gam (with its Crown Heights decor), where we experienced an evening of charm, warmth, and song. Maybe you have to be a member of the tribe to appreciate how good it feels to be gazing at a Venetian canal while singing Friday-night zemirot in the company of 150 Jews of all stripes, lands, and levels of affiliation, enjoying a free, bountiful meal waited upon by rabbis-in-training.

You'd have to be an ingrate not to appreciate Chabad's presence in Venice. I'm told that in the summer, tables are set up along the adjacent canal front to accommodate the hundreds of visiting Jews, some experiencing their first-ever Shabbat meal.

Yet I doubt Chabad is converting very many to their schismatic brand of Judaism. Eating with Lubavitch in Venice highlighted for me that what people are looking for is not theology, but ritual and Jewish camaraderie.

Travelers ready to embrace a Jewish experience don't want to think about the relationship between the Creator and the universe. What they want is an exotic synagogue service, a touch of history, and afterwards cholent, song, and companionship.

There's an outreach lesson here other streams of Judaism may want to emulate.

– From a November 15 Jerusalem Post column

SHMUEL KATZ & JOBOTINSKY

Jabotinsky's hassid

• By ELLIOT JAGER

Shmuel Katz is probably the last remaining link to Ze'ev Jabotinsky outside the prophet's own relations. Last week, on the occasion of his forthcoming 90th birthday on December 9, I went to Tel Aviv to see him.

It was the week in which the remnants of the Jabotinsky movement suffered yet another blow with Uzi Landau's defeat in the race for the Likud Central Committee chairmanship.

'Jabotinsky's photograph should be taken down from the wall of Likud headquarters. I don't want him to 'see' and 'hear' what goes on there,' says Katz.

The Johannesburg-born polemicist, slowed down physically by the infirmities of age - poor circulation in his legs and the after-effects of a stroke - now resides in an agreeable 'assisted living' facility. It's hard for Katz to get around, but his intellectual powers, and ideological steadfastness, remain strong.

A lapsed Jabotinskyte, I wonder aloud if the shifting facts on the ground - the past four years of war, Palestinian demographics, the polarization within Israeli society over the territories, and the constellation of international forces - should not lead us to rethink our stance.

Isn't Ariel Sharon right that a tactical withdrawal - 7,000 Jews from among 1 million Arabs - is militarily and diplomatically wise?

No sooner do I phrase the question than I realize how trifling my litany of contemporary challenges must sound to a man whom Jabotinsky himself sent to London in 1940 to propagate the cause.

Yet Katz isn't irritated. He simply outlines the unshakable truth: 'Leave Gaza, and Jews will be killed in Ashkelon.

'The Arabs have launched a war and we are responding as if it is some kind of squabble. When they say they want to get rid of Israel, that we have no right to exist, they mean it.'

A knock on the door. A nurse enters to administer eye drops and examine Katz's especially bothersome left leg.

When she leaves, the former member of the Irgun high command ('minister of foreign affairs, you might say') concludes his thought:

'Gaza won't be the end of our concessions. Watch.'

So what's the answer?

'There is nothing more left to do except to keep fighting them.

'We can win the war. We just have not won yet.'


WHILE MUCH of the secular Right has mellowed - in Sharon's case shifting to the center - those who have remained steadfast in their 'not one inch' worldview come largely from the theological, sometimes apocalyptic Right.

I ask Katz how this sits with him given that Jabotinsky was a 19th-century liberal, a rationalist and individualist.

Katz admits he has long been wary of Orthodox motivations. He has never forgotten that the religious - Zionist and non-Zionist - collaborated with Labor.

'Yes, they do cause me worry. I would have liked to put a number of questions to them.

'I can only hope Uzi Landau doesn't buckle,' and that, somehow, it is the secular Right that prevails within Likud.

Though he is not devout, Katz believes profoundly that the Land of Israel was given to the Jewish people. That unshakable faith comes not from scripture, but from the 1920 British Mandate.

'Read it.'

I do. The mandate system was established in international law by the Treaty of Versailles in 1922. It charged Britain with 'putting into effect' the 1917 Balfour Declaration; called for 'the establishment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people,' and recognized 'the historical connection of the Jewish people with Palestine' and 'reconstituting their national home in that country.'

Whatever history's twists and turns, Katz sees no point in ceding any of the rights bestowed by the Mandate.

Is such rock-solid ideology out of touch with today's realities? Maybe. But sitting opposite the man in his small sunny room cluttered with mugs, books, two telephones, newspapers, and writing pads - though remarkably few personal mementos - I reflect on his extraordinary career.

After the Irgun, he joined Menachem Begin's Herut Party, serving in Israel's first Knesset. Katz and Begin did not get on; each felt the other was laying (false) claim to be the true inheritor of Jabotinsky's mantle.

Disappointed with Begin's leadership Katz quit politics. From 1951 to 1977 he ran the Karni publishing house and brought out the Megiddo Hebrew & English Dictionary.

In 1977, when voters finally broke Labor's monopoly on power and elected Begin prime minister, the two rivals reconciled. But Begin rejected Katz's advice to create a powerful hasbara ministry and their brief rapprochement collapsed.

All the while Katz has been faithfully articulating the Jabotinsky line. Battleground is probably the finest Zionist polemical tract published; Days of Fire is the story of the Irgun; The Hollow Peace is a denunciation of Begin's concessions to Anwar Sadat. Lone Wolf, his latest book, is Katz's magnum opus, a two-volume biography of Jabotinsky.

Katz is nothing if not persevering. He's just sent off an op-ed warning that 'a Palestinian state will be the launching pad for the next phase of the campaign for all of Palestine.'

Till 120, Mr. Katz.


– From a November 29, 2004 Jerusalem Post column

NEWSPAPERS NOT THE INTERNET

Save my job - read a newspaper

• By ELLIOT JAGER

The crumbling front page in my hand is from the October 7, 1973 Sunday New York Times. The headline - which runs across eight columns and two lines - reads: 'Arabs and Israelis Battle on Two Fronts; Egyptians Bridge Suez; Air Duels Intense.'

This is not a facsimile. It's the genuine newspaper saved all these years.

I am a newspaper junkie. In addition to thousands of clippings from the pre-Google era, there are about a dozen vintage newspapers in my archive: like the Times from Tuesday, June 9, 1981: 'Israeli Jets Destroy Atomic Reactor; Attack Condemned by US and Arab Nations;' and the one from Monday, February 12, 1979: 'A Khomeini Victory.'

Why this trip down memory lane? Because newspapers, with which I became enamored in high-school and through which I earn a living today, are supposedly going the way of black-and-white television and the eight-track cassette.

If true, this is a bad thing because traditional newspapers offer information in a format that cannot be duplicated by radio, television - or the Web.

As the Post's Yehezkel Laing reported on Friday, fewer and fewer Israelis are reading - forget about subscribing to - the Hebrew dailies. Only a handful of the people I know have any newspaper delivered.

It's a global phenomenon. Americans bought more newspapers in 1960 than they did in 2003. Only 6% of young Americans subscribe to a weekday newspaper; even among the over-45 crowd a paltry 30 percent read the dailies.

Still, newspapers everywhere claim to 'penetrate' the population. Sixty percent of Israelis, 57% of Americans, and 70% of Brits are said to be exposed to daily newspapers, perhaps at the office, barber shop or cafe.

The Friday weekend editions remain popular with Israelis - many petrol stations offer you a free paper when you gas up - though even weekend readership is dropping.

When I ask folks why they don't read a newspaper they say they don't have time, or the news is out of date by the time they get to the paper, or they'd rather not know what's going on.

Well, I'm trying to make a living here, folks, and this kind of thinking isn't helping.


TO THE people who don't want to know the news, all I can say is, please don't vote come election day. And to those who don't want a daily paper on their doorstep because it may contain views they disagree with: If you crave serenity, go live in a ashram.

On the other hand, I do sympathize with people who say they just don't have time for a daily newspaper. Anyone who lurches to work on a Dan or Egged bus could hardly be expected to read a paper as well, though heroically some try.

Still, organizing time is a matter of priorities. Previous generations didn't have the time-saving conveniences we enjoy; yet our parents and grandparents made time, not just for a morning paper, but often for an afternoon one as well.

True, news breaks between the time a paper goes to print and the time it's delivered to your door. Which is why the Web does serve a 'breaking news' function. It is also a great way to peruse out-of-town newspapers.

But neither radio, introduced in the 1920s, nor cable television news, which came on-stream in 1982 - or today's Wi-Fi Internet - can supplant newspapers. Because in an age of information overload, newspapers give you not only the 'who, what, where and when' but also the 'why-this-matters' context that is so necessary to be truly informed. By scanning the front page of a quality newspaper you also get a good sense about what's really important.

But why not read the newspaper for free - as most are - on the Web? Because people don't read articles on computer screens with the attention hard-copy newspapers demand and the comprehension they elicit.

The medium via which information is imparted influences how it will be comprehended. Reading a newspaper on the Web is like drinking skim milk. You can fool yourself into thinking you've had the real thing, but you haven't. And at many newspapers (though not this one), there's little connection between the Web site and the editorial side.

Moreover, the role of the media goes beyond reporting news to serving as a tool for political socialization. It is through the media that political values are inculcated. The media instruct citizens as to what events mean for them as individuals. And it is the media which seek to persuade, through editorials and coverage, what people should think.

For instance, the media in modern Germany promote zero-tolerance toward neo-Nazis - which some might call bias, but I call responsible journalism.

The question is, should we entrust such responsibilities to a bunch of geeks slapping the news on the Web at breakneck speed, or to journalists working under the checks and balances of seasoned editors? (The Post's Web site is actually run by the paper's editorial department.)

Enlightened readers know that newspapers provide the breadth and depth the electronic media alone can't duplicate. And advertisers know it too. The Newspaper Association of America reported that advertising expenditures for the fourth quarter of 2004 increased by 4.2% over the same period a year earlier. Savvy advertisers want to reach people who go beyond 'click and scroll.'

I'm not a Luddite. All I am saying is that when it comes to newspapers, technology can only take you so far. Perhaps the ideal way to read a paper that's not locally available is by subscribing to the page-by-page electronic facsimile.

Combining Wi-Fi and a facsimile allows you, at last, to take your digital newspaper into the toilet - just like the genuine article.

– From a March 7, 2005 Jerusalem Post column

CAPITALISM AND THE JEWS

For capitalism with a Jewish heart

• By ELLIOT JAGER

I am not a communist, but something has gone terribly wrong lately with capitalism. Take the Carrefour supermarket chain in France, which earned $1.8 billion in 2004 but pays its employees so poorly that some of them can't afford to shop where they work. Take the fact that worldwide businesses are spending less and less of their revenues on wages, creating vast numbers of working poor and fostering 'jobless' economic recoveries.

Maybe it began in 2001 - when my attention was distracted by the Palestinian war against our buses and cafes - with the collapse of energy-trading giant Enron. Dirty accounting (and worse) threw 6,000 workers out on the street.

Or maybe capitalism's conceit goes back to the collapse of the Soviet empire in 1990. The disappearance of ideological competition from Marxism-Leninism may be one reason capitalism has become increasingly pitiless. If competition is inherently good - in the marketplace and in the marketplace of ideas - its absence has made capitalism a self-satisfied monopoly.

I'm not interested in economic dogma, which I don't understand anyway, but in the lives of ordinary people trying to make ends meet. Back in 1932, during the Great Depression, New York governor Franklin D. Roosevelt summed up capitalist economics this way: 'The first theory is that if we make the rich richer, somehow they will let a part of their prosperity trickle down to the rest of us. The second theory [is that] if we make the average of mankind comfortable and secure, their prosperity will rise upward... through the ranks.'

Trickle up or trickle down.

Trouble is these days the trickle seems to have dried up at both ends. In Israel, productivity (and profit) has risen far higher than wages, while thousands of actual jobs formerly held by Israelis have been exported.

You need only read Larry Derfner's report in last Friday's UpFront magazine to grasp how many thousands of Israelis will be making Pessah this week thanks only to a network of charities; or to understand that working is no longer an answer for many people because almost a third of salaried Israelis earn NIS 1,900 a month or less.

From time immemorial there have been those who rule and those who are ruled. Similarly, in the economic realm there have always been people with money and poor folks. That's the harsh, inescapable reality of life. And the experiment called communism - to create an egalitarian world with the abolition of private property - was a colossal failure.

Yet it seems capitalism absent communist competition is getting meaner. We always knew selfishness could be an effective way to organize society - something the Reds never understood. But lately selfishness seems to know no bounds. Five thousand workers at the British carmaker MG Rover, for instance, will be out on the street - partly, they allege, because their bosses robbed the company blind.

If I do what's good for me, and you do what's good for you, and we both act rationally - the outcome, according to capitalist economists, should be good for both of us. Maybe globalization has thrown a wrench into the system. The ability to function beyond national boundaries, and thus communal ethical standards, seems to have warped the capitalist economic model. Capitalism run amok seems to encourages wealth accumulation while discouraging old-fashioned personal and corporate responsibility.

Yesterday's Post carried a business story about how 'Wall Street suffered its worst single day in nearly two years,' with the Dow dropping 191 points, its worst performance since May 2003. The AP dispatch continued: 'Bond investors were pleased with Friday's results, however, as the bond market continued to rally.' Huh?

Maybe capitalists get away with so much stealing from workers and stockholders because many of us have given up trying to understand the business and finance pages of our newspapers. But force yourself to read and you'll learn that last week 15 New York Stock Exchange traders were indicted for stealing; that Maurice 'Hank' Greenberg, the head of AIG ('the world's leading international insurance and financial services organization'), lied about AIG's earnings while sneaking $2 billion worth of company stock to his wife.

The Economist called him 'A crafty, patient executive.' Right.


I'M NOT out to overturn capitalism - there's nothing to replace it - but can't we make its application, at least in the Jewish state, less exploitative? For instance, Israeli law does not obligate a boss to pay a sick worker his full wages the first few days he's away from the workplace (even if he brings a doctor's note). But a compassionate Jewish capitalist could opt to pay a sick worker his full pay.

Sunday morning Israelis woke up to news that a threatened strike at the country's banks had been postponed by order of the National Labor Court. Now, I've never met a bank teller I liked, but the jobs of 4,000 bank workers are in jeopardy because 'free market reforms' will change the kind of business banks are permitted to do. Compassionate, Jewish, capitalists should worry about the fate of these men and women.

The average gross monthly salary is down NIS 309 to NIS 7,439 (about $1,695). The 'good news' is that the number of really low-paying service industry jobs has increased by 2.4 percent. At an April 10 news conference Finance Minister Binyamin Netanyahu promised Israel would soon be one of the 10 richest countries in the world. Nice. But will we still be the country with the greatest disparity between rich and poor, where 57 percent of Israeli households finish the month in overdraft?

I know it isn't fair, but over-exposure to Eretz Nehederet, the Thursday night television satire program in which a Netanyahu look-alike portrays the minister as a dissolute, smooth-talking, obfuscator, makes it hard for me to take the real character seriously.

So I asked economist Jonathan Lipow about Netanyahu's idea of, for instance, cutting entitlements to stimulate economic growth. 'There is NO evidence,' Lipow practically shouted in an e-mail exchange, 'that cutting entitlements per se stimulates economic growth. Period.'

Even where Netanyahu's strategy may be right, his implementation is wrong, said Lipow. 'There would have been far more gain, and far less pain, in child-allowance cuts had the government maintained funding levels for those children already benefiting.'

Lipow thinks a fairer approach to grow the economy while not penalizing the workers would be for the government to use redistributive taxation.

Like - I suspect - many people, I find economic theory impenetrable. But Lipow's approach strikes me as capitalism with a Jewish heart.

The specter I see haunting a capitalism unchallenged by communism is gluttonous take-no-prisoners greed. Call me na•ve, but I want Israeli politicians to design an economic strategy that doesn't offer us false choices: a government that either taxes and spends with abandon, or one that embraces pure laissez-faire rigidity.

I want a little less economic dogma and a little more Jewish heart.


– From an April 18, 2005 Jerusalem Post column