CTJC Bulletin Rosh Hashanah 2020

CTJC magazine

Rosh HaShanah

Tishrei 5781 September 2020

CTJC Cambridge Traditional Jewish Congregation Magazine number 129

Contents From the Chair ......................................................................................... 3 From the Editor........................................................................................ 5 Community news ..................................................................................... 6 Communal information ........................................................................... 7 Minutes of the CTJC AGM........................................................................ 9 COVID patience ...................................................................................... 12 The Chief Rabbi’s Rosh HaShanah message for 5781............................ 14 How to make sure your organ donation wishes are respected ............ 16 Cambridge Jewish community support ................................................. 19 Moving house ........................................................................................ 20 Angela Buxton: 1934 to 2020 ................................................................ 21 The evil of banality ................................................................................ 22 Lockdown in Jerusalem.......................................................................... 24 Why is Jerusalem different (under lockdown) from all other cities? .... 25 Minyan in the time of Covid .................................................................. 27 The Pandemic in Israel........................................................................... 29 Les Enfants Cachés Se Souviennent....................................................... 33 The Tattooist of Auschwitz .................................................................... 34 Bouncing Back – and Forward ............................................................... 36 The finite and the infinite ...................................................................... 42 Seeds of collapse ................................................................................... 52 Keeping it in the family .......................................................................... 56 Some of our favourite children’s books for Rosh HaShanah ................. 58 Festival calendar 5781, 2020-21 ............................................................ 62 Views expressed in this magazine do not necessarily represent the views of the Editor, nor of the Committee of the CTJC Page 2

From the Chair Jo Landy Welcome to the Rosh HaShanah edition of the CTJC magazine. It is a pleasure to have members and others of all levels of observance participating in our community and services. We respect each other and the belief and practices of the most religious. Any judgmental statements or opinions found in the magazine are specific to that individual and are not representative of the wider community or its officers. We are a group of people who relish difference, accepting both the most and the least orthodox within our traditional structure.

The last six months have been strange for everybody and have demonstrated the strength of the community. This is particularly true of the huge contribution from Rochel and Reuven Leigh in our lives.

Reuven initiated a regular erev Shabbat Zoom get-together. Although not quite the same thing as a face to face experience it has been much better than not seeing people at all, especially during the early months of lock-down. There are members who are still self-isolating, and to be able to catch up with them regularly is especially rewarding.

Reuven has been key in organising the resumption of Shabbat services since July, including Covid-secure kiddushim. Individual kiddush boxes are made up 72 hours in advance containing a few pre-packed sealed goodies from London and a miniature bottle of whisky or wine. These kiddushim are socially distanced and held outside in the cleared back garden to the side of the synagogue.

This Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur will be unique in that we are still in the midst of the pandemic. Services will be rather different from usual. In addition to spaced seating, attendees are requested to bring their own machzorim and tallitot (and, of course, to wear a face mask).

As with Shabbat, it is essential that people sign up to attend (https://www.ctjc.org.uk/high-holidays-attendance). If you have not already done this, please do so as soon as possible so that we can ensure the environment is Covid secure.

For those who would like to attend, but feel uncomfortable in an enclosed environment we are organizing an outside space from which Page 3

people will be able to hear services. The shul windows will be open (as usual), and seats will be provided so that hopefully it will be possible to share the service from outside. This outside space is about to be to be flattened and surfaced. If you would to sit outside please indicate this on the High Holiday attendance reservations form.

As most of you know, it is the responsibility of the students to organize services during term time. At this point it is unknown what restrictions the colleges will place upon student movements or activities. The wider community will be informed of a decision when one has been made.

A thank you is also due to all those individuals who have worked to provide help for the whole community, and continuity of our organisation and of services, and to Jane Liddell-King for editing this magazine.

Wishing you all a very good yom tov.

With the one-way system and social distancing, Shul will be a little different this Yamim Noraim Cover photo: The Cam, by Jane Liddell-King. A reminder of the tashlich prayer For the Lord's word is just; all His deeds are done in faithfulness He loves righteousness and justice; the kindness of the Lord fills the earth

Page 4

From the Editor Jane Liddell-King Firstly, a huge thank you to all of you who have contributed to this magazine and to those stalwarts who have ironed out the many mistakes I missed and upon whose technical know-how I crushingly lean.

On 29th May, 6 Sivan, Shavuot, my cousin, Michael Kagan died of Covid 19. For years, despite severe and recurrent respiratory infections, he had fought and won a battle against cancer. But his life depended on regular chemotherapy. On his last visit to hospital, his test for Covid 19 came back negative. And then a second test came back positive. His sister records that he was extremely cross. Even as he struggled for breath, he talked on his mobile to his wife and children about the needs of the birds in the garden, about coming home. He chose life until the very last minute.

I mention this because the global pandemic has affected us as individuals and it is as individuals that we have responded to each other. None of us has dwindled into namelessness. Reuven has brought us together on Fridays, sharing his thoughts on masks, time, his excitement over the number of mitzvot in a single pasuk. He has heartened us with psalms and news of friends who have survived Covid. Sarah Schechter has unfailingly sent the Cambridge Jewish Support newsletter and the Goldrein family have kept us in online tea and good company. We have Zoomed, telephoned, emailed: grateful for the digital age. Each gesture, however small, has helped us to face this anthropause, to adapt to a new normal, a Cambridge of disappeared shops, masked faces, and a river whose quietness feels like a blessing, a place to gaze and think, and perhaps, anticipate Taschlich and a new year.

Now 3 Thompson’s Lane is open again and we can daven together.

Another thank you to those who have given so much time and thought to enabling us to do so in safety.

Page 5

No doubt we are all asking ourselves not only what has happened since that strange Pesach when some of us Zoomed our seders, but also what we have achieved in the unique year that has past and what we might manage in the year to come. What unimaginable changes might we be asked to confront?

The Shofar sounds a wakeup call. Louis Jacobs observes that the notes carry us from confidence in God to weeping and then back to renewed trust. I hope this insight inspires you.

Wishing you ‫לשנה טובה ומתוקה‬.

Community news Congratulations

‫מזל טוב‬

Nathaniel McDonnell, on his Bar Mitzvah, and parents Ayellet and Mike Rabbi Elazar and Rebetsen Alissa Symon, and new baby Telem Raveh

Refuah shlema

Aryeh and Hannah Dworkin, and new daughter Yehudit Leah

‫רפואה שלימה‬

Refuah shlema to Shimon Alouf

Condolences

‫ברוך דיין אמת‬

Rebecca Djanogly, on the death of her mother, Angela Buxton, and to grandchildren Tara, Kelly, Joseph, and Beth Jonathan Allin, on the death of his Father, Maurice Allin, on 30 May, aged 98 Please do get in touch with the Editor if you have news you would like to share Page 6

Communal information Who does what Chair Treasurer Secretary CTJC community rabbi Magazine CUJS liaison Kiddushim Board of Deputies Gabbai and synagogue Building

Jo Landy Ben Blaukopf Barry Landy Rabbi Reuven Leigh Jane Liddell-King Jo Landy Jonathan Harris Robert Marks Yoav Git Tim Goldrein

Services in the Synagogue Friday evening

Shabbat morning Sunday morning

In Term: Winter Ma'ariv 6:00pm Summer Minchah and Ma'ariv 7:30pm In Vacation: Check the website, www.ctjc.org.uk 9:30am in the Synagogue 8:30am in the Synagogue (most weeks)

Leyning If you would like to learn to leyn, take a service, or read a haftarah, please contact Yoav or Ben.

Learning, Talmud Shiur Led by Professor Stefan Reif. The shiur is currently held over Zoom, at 8:00pm on mutually convenient evenings. The group is currently studying Masechet Betza. For more information email chevra@ctjc.org.uk.

Kiddushim Kiddushim really help to make Shabbat morning special. If you would like to sponsor a kiddush, please email kiddushim@ctjc.org.uk.

Page 7

Kosher meat and groceries Derby Stores (26 Derby St, Newnham, 354391) stock prepacked Kosher groceries and meat, and will buy to order. They get fresh from London midday Thursday, and stay open till 8pm. Sainsbury's in Coldham's Lane also stocks a range of Kosher Goods including frozen chicken legs.

Ocado has some Kosher foods in its delivery list.

Hospital visiting Contact Sarah Schechter (329172), Tirzah Bleehen (354320) for coordination if you wish to volunteer to help, or need to organise some visits.

Rabbi Reuven Leigh (354603), Barry Landy (570417), and others are prepared to attend hospitals to read prayers.

Due to personal privacy concerns the hospital no longer informs us when Jewish patients are admitted. If you wish to be visited, please let one of the above know when you are about to enter hospital.

Chevra Kadisha The Cambridge Jewish Residents' Association (CJRA) Chevra Kadisha, which follows orthodox rites, is available to members of the CTJC. Contact Brendel Lang, secretary (353301), Robert Marks, treasurer (07791 788 584), or Barry Landy (570417).

Religious events For services, bar mitzvahs, weddings, brit milah etc, contact Rabbi Reuven Leigh (354603) or Barry Landy (570417).

For up to date community information please visit the CTJC web site: www.ctjc.org.uk.

Page 8

Minutes of the CTJC AGM 19 July 2020 The meeting took place using web sharing.

Present (remotely): Jo Landy (Chair), Ben Blaukopf (Treasurer), Barry Landy (Secretary), Ros Landy, Tirzah Bleehen, Jane Liddell-King, Robert Marks (BoD), Stefan Reif (Trustee), Simon Goldhill, Jonathan Allin, Sarah Schechter (Trustee), Julian Landy Apologies: Mark Harris 1. Minutes of the previous AGM had been circulated with the Magazine and no comments had been received.

2. Chair's report (Jo Landy) Another year has flown by.

Until the start of lockdown services were held in Thompsons Lane as normal. On behalf of your committee I must thank Aryeh Dworkin for once again coming back to Cambridge to daven for us at Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur.

While I am sure he enjoyed his break in Harvard we were all pleased to have Reuven back to lead us. His trip was beautifully timed to avoid the pandemic in the US. Outside term time we enjoyed as usual wonderful kiddushim after davening. Purchased by Jonathan Harris and Yoav and prepared for us by Lauren, Helen, and Jo Landy.

After some negotiations a Management Committee has been formed of two students, and a representative from each of CJRA and CTJC. Our representative is Tim Goldrein who has taken a leading role in Mancom and delivered all he said that he would.

Tim has actually carried out a lot of the work himself (assisted by Ben and Barry) and spent many hours doing so.

Page 9

In the last year we have heard more about the proposals for a new shul. At the time of writing the plans are once again stymied. This is due to an alleged problem concerning rights of light. Watch this space.

The most obvious event this year has been Covid 19. You will all know that the shul was closed for all purposes from March till July.

I am sure that we are all delighted that services have now restarted. Many thanks to all those who have worked tirelessly to get the building ready for re-opening.

One benefit of lockdown was the introduction by Reuven of weekly zoom meetings on Friday afternoon. This has been a great plus for all the participants, delighting in being able to see and talk to each other as a community.

Thanks are also due to Jane for producing interesting and enlightening communal magazines and to Ben for his hard work on the accounts, Robert Marks for work relating to the Board of Deputies and Barry for the work in his position as secretary.

On a sad note I understand that Jonathan Allin does not wish to remain on the Committee. I would like to take this opportunity of thanking him for his sterling work over the years. He will be much missed. I am sure all hope that he will, like Lauren, continue to be part of the binding that holds this community together.

I look forward to another year of successful operations.

3. Treasurer's report Ben presented the Balance Sheet (2019-20) and explained the reason for the apparent reduction in assets.

Stefan wanted to know why the net surplus (excess of income over expenditure) was down by approx ÂŁ1000, and Ben explained.

Page 10

4. Trustee accounts Barry presented the Trustee accounts.

Julian asked why this charity needs reserves equivalent to 10 years turnover.

After some discussion it was agreed that the Trustees would consider this issue and produce a discussion paper.

5. Approval of Independent Examiner Motion to appoint T. Marcuson as independent examiner of accounts for the year 2020/2021: This was agreed unanimously 6. Approval of Membership fees for 2020/21 The committee propose no change in the fees: This was agreed nem con 7. Election of Committee The committee propose that the existing committee members be deemed re-elected: This was agreed nem con 8. AOB a. Sarah suggested that the Friday afternoon Zoom session should be continued even after shul services resume fully. b. Jane requested material for the next magazine. c. Barry asked what plans there are for Rosh Hashanah. • Jo replied that the options include hiring a large enough space or having services at staggered times. • Tirzah wondered whether there was any possibility of using Zoom. d. Jonathan Allin wanted to make it clear that he is fully prepared to continue to be involved in the running of the community. e. Tirzah reported that the CJRA are in the process of removing trustee contingent liability and wondered if CTJC is doing that.

It was agreed that we should find out what is involved.

Page 11

A note to the minutes These minutes have yet to be approved. Four members of CTJC committee believe that a more accurate representation of the outcome of the meeting’s discussion concerning use of CTJC funds (point 4) is: After some discussion it was agreed that the trustees and the members were all asked to contribute ideas of how to use our accumulated funds appropriately.

The trustees are to report back to the committee.

COVID patience Rabbi Dr Reuven Leigh Patience: /ˈpeɪʃ(ə)ns/ the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, problems, or suffering without becoming annoyed or anxious.

Middle English: from Old French, from Latin patientia, from patient- ‘suffering’.

For the first time in my lifetime, I am living through a time of shared experience. By that I mean an event of sorts which demonstrably affects nearly everyone in the world. I suspect the most recent comparable experience was the Second World War. There is a certain sense of solidarity and shared empathy in knowing how everyone is learning to adapt and manage through all of this.

At the same time, each of our experiences of COVID is unique and distinct. Some have had to deal with the illness itself and even worse the passing of family or friends, others have had to shield and live in relative isolation for months, whilst some have had to work out how to cope with an unexpected house full of family with no sign of respite.

Whilst it may seem callous to discuss positive sides to this whole saga when there is so much suffering and anxiety, the Baal Shem Tov taught that from every experience we must derive something positive which can enhance and advance our service of Hashem.

Page 12

So much of the past few months has felt like a Sabbatical. Not in the academic sense which often involves an intensification of work albeit on one’s own terms, rather in the Biblical sense with a forced cessation of work and putting on hold the ordinary and everyday flow of life. PreCOVID it would have been unfathomable for nearly the entire economy to come to a standstill, and without opining on how sensible a decision that was, it has thrown open the question whether all of our working habits are as necessary as they may have seemed.

For me, the beginning of the lockdown was far from sabbatical, what with Pesach looming near. Even though this would be our first time in 17 years in Cambridge when we wouldn’t be hosting a communal seder for fifty or more, we were at least able to deliver a Seder in a Box kit and supplies of Matzah to stranded and isolated Jews throughout Cambridgeshire.

After Pesach, however, with hardly any students remaining in Cambridge and the closure of the Shul and Gan Yeladim nursery, our usual and predictable way of life was put on hold. One of the side benefits for me has been a reappraisal of my approach to learning and davening.

I started to think about the association of the comparable words “patient” and “patience”, as I had previously never really associated the words. A COVID patient being someone experiencing suffering and having COVID patience would be the capacity to tolerate suffering. The Hebrew ‫( סבלנות‬savlanut) has a similar etymology, in the sense of carrying a heavy burden. I had always thought of patience in a more positive sense, as a virtuous quality of being measured and deliberate, whose Hebrew equivalent would probably be ‫( מתינות‬metinut).

This notion of patience is something I have tried to apply to my daily routines. Pre-COVID when life was more hectic and rushed, my learning and davening was similarly hectic and rushed. The removal of so many external demands has allowed me to become more patient. Instead of an approach that favoured getting things done and finished as quickly and efficiently as possible, I am now able to pause and reflect and be more present in these moments of learning and davening. This calmer and more focused approach has significantly enhanced the quality of Page 13

my studies. The challenge will be how to maintain this patient approach when the pace of ordinary life starts to ramp up again.

One thing is for sure, it is amazing how many new things you notice when you have the time to pay attention.

The Chief Rabbi’s Rosh HaShanah message for 5781 Chief Rabbi Ephraim Mirvis, September 2020, Ellul 5780 As I reflect on an extraordinary year, my first thoughts are with those whose lives were tragically cut short by the Coronavirus. May their memories be for a blessing and may their families find comfort in their sad loss.

My heart goes out to the many whose health, whether physical or mental, has been affected and to those who are facing severe financial hardship or crises in their personal relationships. The restrictions on social interaction, abrupt changes to our routine, and the grip of deep uncertainty have dramatically impacted the fabric of all of our lives in ways that we could never have imagined.

In the years to come, while many will admiringly recall our resilience and forbearance during these most trying of times, ultimately the success of our response to this Pandemic will be judged not by how we felt, but by how we acted.

The Torah portion of Nitzavim, which is always read immediately prior to Rosh Hashanah, commences with these words: “You are all standing this day before the Lord your God; your heads, your tribes (shivtechem), your elders and your officers”.

In this list of national leaders, “tribes” appears to be out of place. Mindful of the fact that “shevet” also means “staff” or “sceptre”, our commentators explain that the leaders of our people are being referred to according to the item that they carried that symbolised their role. In the same way as “the Crown” refers to the Page 14

monarch and “First Violin” refers to an orchestra’s lead musician, a person who leads is known by the instrument of that leadership.

The message that emerges is extremely powerful. You are defined by what you do. The essence of a person is measured according to what they have achieved.

For this reason, we call community leaders “machers” (makers).

“Macher” is a role that conveys respect, because the people who change the world are not the dreamers and thinkers; the people who change the world are the “doers”.

On Yom Kippur we read the book of Jonah, in which the prophet informs the inhabitants of Nineveh of their impending doom.

In response, they fast and repent for their evil ways. The text captures that epic event in just a few words: “God saw their deeds”. Their words of apology and their fasting were merely steps towards a life-changing moment. What concerned God was not their protestations, but their actions.

This year, without any preparation whatsoever, every one of our communities was plunged into a crisis of unprecedented proportions.

Your response has been simply magnificent. With our Shuls closed, our communities redoubled their creativity and their altruism. We have never known such an outpouring of compassion, such acts of selfless care for the vulnerable and such generosity in charitable giving.

I have no doubt that such action will remain at the heart of our Covid19 response for as long as it takes us to overcome the dangers it presents to all of humankind.

As we commence 5781, may Hashem inscribe and seal each and every one of us in the Book of Life, good health, peace, and fulfilment.

Page 15

How to make sure your organ donation wishes are respected Amanda Bowman, Vice President of the Board of Deputies, July 2020

Background •

Since organ donation was first introduced in the 1950s, Judaism has approached the question of deceased organ donation on an individual case-by-case basis.

•

The family of the deceased play a key role in the process.

•

They often require support not only about understanding the medical issues but also about how organ donation can be done in a way that is consistent with their loved one’s faith and cultural traditions.

•

At a time of stress and grief, Rabbis and religious authorities can provide support and assistance.

•

The Jewish principles of pikuach nefesh (saving lives) and kavod hamet (respecting the deceased) need to be respected.

•

During and after the donation process Judaism incorporates another principle which must not be neglected – that of nichum aveilim – giving comfort to the bereaved.

The New Organ Donation Regulation in England There is a new organ donation system operating in England. For the Jewish community in England some elements of the system have changed. It is relatively straightforward to ensure your wishes are respected – whether you want to be an organ and tissue donor; if so, whether you want to do so in line with religious considerations; or do not want to donate under any circumstances.

If you want to donate, there is a continued emphasis on eliminating any doubt of the potential organ donor’s wishes before the procedure Page 16

can go ahead. It is vital that we, and our loved ones, trust the system. If possible, confusion must be eliminated. If our loved ones are unclear as to what we wanted, this creates family distress.

The reform that has received most media attention is cultural.

Politicians describe the new system as “opt out”, to use legal language, based on “deemed consent”. However, there are safeguards to ensure that no one becomes an organ donor without their consent.

Communication with families under all circumstances is upheld as “essential” throughout.

Critically, if an individual has not actively expressed consent, the family or a nominated person can give information that would lead a reasonable person to conclude that (i) the person did not want to be a donor and so donation should not proceed; or (ii) that donation should proceed in line with faith considerations and religious belief and so donation should proceed only in the appropriate way. Organ transplant professionals will be guided by such information.

If an individual has not actively expressed consent; and family, or a close friend where appropriate, or a nominated person cannot be reached, then organ donation should not go ahead. These safeguards are underpinned by the relevant Human Tissue Authority Code of Practice for organ donation professionals which has been tabled in Parliament.

Recommended next steps •

•

•

Speak to your Rabbi or engage with your religious authority’s information on organ donation generally, to help you come to a decision about organ donation.

You should communicate clearly to your family what your decision is with regard to organ donation, ideally both in a conversation and in writing. The written statement does not require legal countersigning or lodging.

Log your decision on to the Government’s online Organ Donor Register (ODR) at www.organdonation.nhs.uk. The ODR is an Page 17

•

•

•

important indicator to organ donation professionals about your decision. The ODR has the options to register either consent or non-consent.

If you decide to consent to donation there is an option to indicate that your faith is important and must be taken into consideration as the process goes ahead. This is a critical new innovation which can help ensure your wishes are respected.

There is a faith declaration on the ODR, which states how organ donation professionals will communicate with your family, and how they will be allowed to discuss the decision with your religious authorities.

The Board of Deputies is working with all the Jewish religious authorities to ensure that families of potential organ donors can be provided with a phone helpline from which they can seek rabbinic advice. Healthcare professionals should be able to provide this number to families and will also be able to consult it themselves.

Now is the time to ensure your personal wishes are known. We advise you to speak to your Rabbi or religious authority, share your decision with your family, and make your decision clear on the Organ Donor Register at www.organdonation.nhs.uk.

See “Seeds of Collapse”, p52 Page 18

Cambridge Jewish community support Sarah Schechter • • •

• • • •

If you need help: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1Y5HiVieXaHGtm0C7N0GlE8nVonvUu0kP4DTDEp7r_0 Fill in the online form and we’ll get back to you as soon as possible If you can offer help locally: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1nIUU9zyZGX2gMzm1Y_k4p ZyzVhOoiB_DPnVPwIRS0r4 Shul news, activities and services; Pesach guidelines; Yom HaShoah ceremony Welfare: Jewish Care, Jami, Jewish Helpline, Paperweight, Jewish virtual community Directory, JW3, Jewish Small Communities Coffee Break Initiative, Financial aid details, advice for parents Entertainment: Israeli Dancing, Jewish Book Group, Jewish Culture Group online, lectures

Page 19

A snapshot of activities on offer during the anthropause

Moving house When the Blaukopf family moved Ito their new home, Tim Goldrein and Ben Blaukopf made the mezuzot. Tim carved the cases from wood and Ben added the shin with a wood burner.

Page 20

Angela Buxton: 1934 to 2020 Jonathan Djanogly Angela was born in Liverpool in 1934 to Harry and Violet Buxton. Harry established a successful cinema chain in the north of England funded, initially in 1928, by his breaking the bank at the tables in Monte Carlo.

War separation, with Violet, Angela and brother Gordon staying in South Africa, led to her parents’ divorce, although Harry and violet always remained very close. However the 13year-old Angela came back to England a keen tennis player and very quickly started winning tournaments. Despite not coming from an observant Jewish family, Angela‘s interest in her faith and also her lifetime commitment to Zionism was triggered by her participation and victory in the 1953 and 1957 Maccabiah games. In particular she took great pride in being given the honour of holding the British flag in the opening ceremony.

Following the Six Day War she and her then husband, Chairman of the Zionist Federation Donald Silk, volunteered for a year on Kibbutz Ami’ad in the Galilee, where her daughter Rebecca (age 2) learnt Hebrew before English. Angela helped the development of tennis in Israel and mentored a number of Israeli tennis players over the years.

Also given that the Angela Buxton Centre taught tennis at its North London premises for decades, it would probably be fair to say that Angela has done as much to encourage young Jewish people to play the sport as anyone else has.

But of course, Angela’s reputation will forevermore be tied to three issues. Firstly the way in which she overcame anti-Semitism to achieve Page 21

her ambitions. Secondly, the respect and friendship she showed to her black partner, at a time when few else would do the same. Thirdly, the fact that she was a winner. A holder, with Althea Gibson, of two Grand Slam doubles titles but also of many other championship titles as well as being a Wimbledon singles finalist. As a Jewish woman in the 1950s this was no small achievement and Angela set a tone for sporting behaviour that has inspired many others in more recent years In 1981 Angela was admitted to the International Jewish Sports Hall of Fame and in 2015 to the Black Tennis Hall of Fame. In later years, living between Manchester and Florida, she enjoyed tennis journalism and mentoring young players as well as giving talks on countering prejudice within sport. Angela was never shy of voicing her views and calling out fault as and when she saw it. This frequently did not endear her to the establishment, not least that of the tennis world. However, she contained a level of self-belief and inner strength that propelled her to being the champion that she was and enabled her to overcome many hardships, not least the predeceasing of her two sons.

Angela was a loyal friend to many and a great ambassador for her sport. She will be missed, especially by her surviving daughter Rebecca Djanogly and grandchildren Tara, Kelly, Joseph, and Beth.

The evil of banality Julian Landy Please forgive me messing with Arendt’s famous phrase. All will become clear, or at least, clearer.

At present our city is devoid of visitors and has few visible students.

Some things, however, never change, wherever there are a few Jews.

Our wider community, throughout the globe, is still preyed upon, not just by anti-Semites, but by those seeking to convert us to the joys of Yoshua ben Yosef.

Page 22

I think Shavuot was being celebrated when Yoshua’s followers found they could speak in tongues and set about converting the world: the aim being to save souls apparently doomed to posthumous Hell, having sinned while embodied.

The Church's Ministry Among Jewish People is perhaps the oldest of these groups. It is a registered charity and operates primarily in this country, and also in Israel, without apparent interference from state or religious leaders. It is over 200 years old and we are the sole object of its “ministry”. No Muslim or Hindu concerns it. As Yoshua was one of us, it seems they think we ought to “see the light” (as opposed to sunrise and candles on Friday night, for example). CMJ is a wealthy organisation with a number of employees. How this work is really charitable escapes me though perhaps they would claim promotion of religion.

“Jews for Jesus” is perhaps the first of these outfits you might think about. They are really chutzpadik, more assertive in their “outreach” even than dear Lubavitch (sorry Reuven). They’ve even staked out our Hendon heartland. Researchers into the conversion industry claim that there are over a thousand organisations at work, most based in the USA. They are incredibly well-funded and politically powerful.

Personally, I find it banal that they exist at all, but perhaps that is just a Jewish attitude. We never seek to proselytise. So why should anyone else? It is baffling. If we can co-exist in our various communities, why do these folk continue to thrive? The only answer must be that it is a fundamental part of their faith. These people have been persistent for a very long time.

So why raise all this now? The context is political. In a few weeks, our cousins will elect a new President. In addition to the Democrats courting the “Jewish vote”, all potential Republican candidates (including the present incumbent), seek the endorsement of the fundamentalist Christian Right. These people are also the principal supporters of proselytism. And yet, some Jews also will vote for Trump.

My message is simple. The Democrats will always be better for our Page 23

community than their opponents. And weirdly, there is no discernible Christian Left in the USA, though arguably it does exist in this country.

This is not a thesis or even an academic argument, merely a personal observation of a very peculiar phenomenon.

But conversion has always been central to Christianity: convert or go to Hell.

Lockdown in Jerusalem Tikva Blaukopf Schein With our residential location chosen for proximity to our respective shuls and walking distance to amenities (as well as to the materfamilias Sharon Blaukopf!) living out our overdraft in Jerusalem began to feel quite imprudent after a few months of intermittent lockdown. Perhaps, I mulled, we should move to the Golan, where we might afford a square-inch of garden, nay, grass. Or there’s always Ireland, or Arkansas. Why rent for Manhattan prices in a city you don’t see? But when they said Jerusalem was endowed with nine-tenths of the world’s beauty, terrible and flashing-eyed though that harsh beauty can be, they meant during Corona too.

Pop-up minyanim on every street corner (very awkward when you’re mid-intimate conversation with someone and end up in the middle of someone else’s amida); coordinated ma nishtana sung from balconies; and dozens of kriyot haTorah within 50 yards of my front door. I miss my shul community but witnessing so many home-grown tikkunei leil on Shavuot made my heart sing. Jerusalem has always been a locus of charm for me and Corona has given me a little more of its quiet side.

Of course, lockdown here began right after Purim so it was a matter of exchanging one mask for another and Corona’s oscillations have followed the waves of the chagim. Our family-less chagim.

Finally a way to meet the neighbours, we thought. Yet, cultural differences have become blatant. Strolling along my street one Shabbat, a thronging of the youthful sallied past. “She’s clearly Page 24

Ashkenazi”, they said, pointing at me, “Why else would she wear a mask over her nose and mouth?”. “You’re Anglo”, smirked an interchangeable interlocutor, “that’s the only reason you don’t send to gan/act normal/want to lick my ice cream”. If you were seeking to pigeonhole us according to some structuralist anthropological study, we’d be the isolationists.

Seemingly only dimly aware that there is still a pandemic - “But Corona ended in May!”, expostulated one childminder to her client - most Israelis appear to be managing trippingly, even if on the back of some Gothic-style governance. Bars and nightclubs were opened while caps on wedding and funeral attendees remained. Those who didn’t take to hermit life were invited to join the moshpit of the political protests.

The whimsically changing regulations are a daily reminder that yes, frustratingly, we are in the Middle East. Ahead of the curve at the beginning, Israel is now struggling terribly with infection, all because no one here likes to keep rules. Such faith!

Although my sanity-meter is bursting for some green dell to frolic over without tripping over five non-masked families holding their bi-weekly mangal, I do feel very fortunate to be here. There needs to be a more pressing reason to extricate me from this most omphalos of the world.

I’m not asking for one, thank you.

Why is Jerusalem different (under lockdown) from all other cities?

Sharon Blaukopf What could be so different about lockdown in Israel or, more precisely, in Jerusalem?

Goodness gracious me, banks offering special facilities (free!) to those of the third age, or the golden age as it’s termed hereabouts. For a bank in Israel to offer anything without a charge is amazing, practically a miracle. The municipality has been delivering meals to old people.

Before Pesach, Chabad popped up with “Seder-in-a-Box”. I had not actually ordered such a treat, but nonetheless one day I nearly tripped Page 25

over a large box by my front door. I made a Seder all by myself, and actually enjoyed it. I could have gone to my daughter and family but there was a strict “closure” over that period that I did not want to transgress. I fulfilled my civic duty by spouting Mah Nishtana out of the window at eight o’clock, along with a few other people in the street.

Come Shavuot, places at the Kotel, normally packed at that time, were somehow or other apportioned to a limited, lucky few.

I was walking down a nearby narrow street one Shabbat morning and it took me a minute to realise that the davening I could hear was coming from rooftops on either side of the road.

Well, this is Jerusalem, in’it? This is your actual holy city. Not going to miss out on praying in a minyan here if at all possible.

Now, on many streets, one finds outdoor minyanim. Play your cards right and you can be blessed by Kohanim multiple times on a short walk. (The Kohanic blessing happens every day in Israel.) On Shabbat afternoon, at one of the local minyanim for Mincha, the Torah is read from a second-floor balcony to a suitably socially distanced be-masked group below, including women using a convenient hedge as a mechitza.

These minyanim have become fixtures, with many having erected covers against the sun. I suspect that they will also soon be serving as protection against rain. These outdoor minyanim are no longer a novelty. I, who have not been inside a shul for five (or is it six) months, find them to be an enhancing addition to the landscape. It gives a kind of feeling of kedusha to the surroundings. I am even considering buying a plastic chair to take along to a minyan of my choosing on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur.

The internet is bursting with edifying talks, interactive lectures of Jewish and other interest, and whatnot. Along with loads of others, I have become a Zoomologist.

How do I cope on a daily basis? I can get meat and fish brought to my door easily enough, but of course I’d like fresh veg too. At first I had fruit and veg delivered from a stall in the Machane Yehuda market.

Seemingly, some stalls were allowed (or maybe not allowed) to operate. Oh dearie me I had come across a stall that was super frum, with prices commensurate with its high moral stance. I ended up Page 26

getting stuff delivered from the little grocery on my street. Not cheap particularly, but the stuff was with me within ten minutes with no delivery charge. Nowadays, I do go out, with great caution and a piratelike mask and gloves when appropriate, and a small container of hand sanitiser. Yes, I am paranoid. I have not seen some of my friends for the duration, and the last time I hosted people for a meal was the Purim seuda.

Israel was, at one stage, one of the top three countries for coping with “the virus”. That has now changed, not for the better. This could be partly due to the “know-it-alls” who insist that the whole thing is a conspiracy. Not sure why or what, but so be it. They say one has to be a trifle crazy to live in Israel, and certainly crazy to live in Jerusalem. The greatest compliment you can give someone in this city is to say they are normal. I live not so far the Prime Minister’s official residence and have just shut the windows in order not to hear the racket from the demonstrators. Probably the same people who accuse Netanyahu of not handling the virus crisis well. Yes, you go and join a large crowd of people, probably many without masks on properly, and complain about the spread of the virus. Perhaps they feel that the virus is discerning and will not attack upright left-wingers.

The whole thing can be summed up in one compact phrase, which you may have heard before. What the future holds depends on two things: How dense the population is, and how dense the population is.

Minyan in the time of Covid Rosalind Landy During this changed time, when Covid has made us follow new rules of non-assembly, there has been a regular not-quite Minyan in Gilbert Road. Barry reads the Torah and I listen and correct where necessary.

Our numbers had a 50% increase when another Gilbert Roadian came to be part of our non-Minyan, all following government guidelines, distancing of 2 metres and in the open air. When it got to Shavuot with stichomythic Psalms, Mr.Down-the Road asked to hear the leining and Page 27

to join in the responsive poetry, all in the garden, no masks required but gloves provided for visitors.

This had a high degree of success and was followed by a fine Kiddush with good whisky and tasty nibbles. Kiddush time encouraged some chat and we came to the subject of Challot and how to bake them; a very apt Covid topic. Me, I had not made Challot for years. When the children were small, we did a lot of kitchen stuff on rainy afternoons.

This included bread making. Now, with lockdown and distancing we thought of becoming bakers again.

Barry did the research for yeast (unobtainable at first, so I used beer.)

Then it was a question of getting white flour. Eventually it was tracked down and arrived in what looked like a painter’s large mixing pot.

Over the past eight weeks my challot have improved. At first they were rather dense and stodgy. Then they became lighter, more risen and altogether better but without much taste.

Finally, after discussing the modus operandi with our mini-Minyan attender, who also makes bread, I have added more honey and more salt, both of which I had been too light with. Now the challot are looking great, smelling wonderful and are almost as tasty as they ought to be.

The latest stage is that the extra Gilbert Roadian is attending the revamped Shul arrangement but the Kiddush and Shmooze are still on offer at our alternative Minyan.

Please note: if you are thinking of coming, please book in.

Page 28

The Pandemic in Israel A personal view Stefan C. Reif At the end of February and the beginning of March I was back in Israel, deriving pleasure from the delightful spring weather and the blossoming almond trees, and all was well in my personal little world. I had spent time with my partner Renate in Salzburg, where we had sampled the wonderful wintry scenery, the newly opened spa a few hundred metres from her apartment, and superb local concerts. She had then come to Cambridge where we had enjoyed lunching and dining at St John’s, davening at Thompson’s Lane on Shabbat, working on a joint research project and visiting the superb Tutankhamun exhibition at the Saatchi Gallery in London. I had made all my plans for the coming six months, including lectures in various centres and different countries, had arranged for Renate to join me in Israel for Pesach and had booked seats at the superb Tel Aviv Opera House until the end of the season in July. We booked an early summer holiday at an outstanding hotel in Cyprus. El Al even surprised me by writing to say that because of my many flights my gold card had been upgraded to platinum, and detailing all the advantages. My investments were doing well and I was managing to look after all the needs of my homes in Cambridge and Beit Shemesh by sharing time between them, never leaving either for more than three or four weeks.

Within a few short weeks, our lives, and those of millions of others around the whole globe, had changed dramatically and drastically. Just before Pesach, Prime Minister Netanyahu saw the Covid-19 catastrophe looming and shut down the whole of Israel. He was so convinced that he was doing the right thing that he even advised other countries to do the same. His court case for alleged financial misdemeanours was postponed and he was able to concentrate, as acting prime minister (and in the absence of a new coalition), on handling the prospective defeat of the evil virus from China. He Page 29

appeared on television every evening as the chief of staff in the battle and explained, always with an emphasis on the use of the first person singular, how he was managing the situation. “I saw”, “I did”, “I said”, “I arranged”. Others involved were grudgingly allowed walk-on roles in his meticulously choreographed presentations.

The streets became eerily quiet. We had to order our groceries and have them delivered. My daughter, Tanya, collected items for me from the pharmacy. Those in the retirement age were defined as high risk, without any regard as to their actual state of health, and instructions were given about not walking more than a hundred metres from our homes and not seeing family members. No synagogue services, no entertainment, no gyms or pools. One was given the clear impression that one was a statistic and not a person. Pesach was to be celebrated alone. Masks, hand-washing, disinfectant gels became part of daily–no, actually hourly–life. It took some time for the ultra-Orthodox folk, especially in Jerusalem, and the ultra-liberated youth in Tel Aviv, to adapt to the new requirements, by which time many more infections had occurred. The political battles between right and left, religious and secular, Jews and Arabs, raged on regardless.

How was one to celebrate the Seder on one’s own? It was difficult enough not to be able to attend services in shool but the prospect of reading the Haggadah to oneself loomed ahead and there were undoubtedly many of the older generation who believed that, in such circumstances, their lives were barely worth living. Given their usual record of strictness, insensitivity, and aversion to change of any sort, some of the leading rabbis–mainly from the Sefardi side but including a few Ashkenazi authorities too–astonished us all by suggesting that we could leave our computer devices on over the festival and share the Seder that way with those near and dear to us. Within twenty-four hours there were voices of serious dissent and some of the rabbis, under the threat of being condemned as kind and thoughtful in their halakhic decisions (Heaven forbid!), timidly withdrew. We had of course “misunderstood” the original ruling. I read what had been written in that ruling and was convinced that it was fully justified from Page 30

many angles. One local Rabbi in Beit Shemesh explained that in his view it would be good for the soul and spiritually uplifting to sit alone and read the Haggadah. I felt that he must know different kinds of partners and family members from the sort with whom I was familiar.

Renate and I celebrated the Seder and did all the yomtov davening together on line. It was strange but it was a relief.

Much more seriously, hundreds had died or were hospitalized, many thousands of workers were being sacked or put on extended leave, public education had virtually ceased and businesses had closed down or were on the brink of doing so. For me personally, it was a lonely time but the damage was less catastrophic. Flights were frozen until better times, lectures were postponed or Zoomed, conferences were cancelled, and opera and concert tickets seemed worthless at least for the moment. At least I was able to finish two books and to make progress with a third. Most of the Israeli population felt that if we willingly and obediently succumbed to all the regulations and restrictions, there would soon be a return to normality. It would only be a question of time. There was disappointment, frustration, and depression but we generally dealt with those (all in our own ways) doggedly rather than cheerfully, and hoped that our sacrifices would soon prove worthwhile.

After a period of about six weeks, the numbers of infections were significantly lower and Netanyahu began to ease the restrictions. Most Israelis had long admired his skills as a politician and a diplomat, especially in the international sphere, but also as something of a financial wizard. The country had been booming and the threat from Covid-19 had been contained; prosperity would return. Even those who were Bibi’s political foes admitted to a sneaking admiration for his managerial abilities and his foresight. He milked the situation for all it was worth. He presented it as his personal triumph and who could deny him this glory? In the middle of May, Netanyahu was riding so high that he was even able to put together a coalition that would incorporate into his government, and under his leadership, many of his most powerful opponents in the Knesset and keep him in power for at Page 31

least another eighteen months. Few believed that the head of the Blue and White party, Benny Ganz, would ever be permitted to take over from Bibi as prime minister. Towards the end of May, Netanyahu appeared on television to impart the good news. We should all go out and have a coffee or a beer. Life would soon be back to normal. He had brought us through the valley of the shadow of Covid. Restaurants, yeshivot, night-clubs, bars, and beaches filled up, and most of Israel smugly thought that the danger was now over for us, if not for other less fortunate countries.

As the Scottish poet Robert Burns wisely put it, “The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft agley, an’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain.”

Within two months of that rash invitation to celebrate, the numbers of infections had risen to some 2,000 per day and Israel had moved from the most admired country to the one whose citizens would be shunned at ports of immigration around the world. Netanyahu now spoke in the first person plural about the miscalculations that we had made and threatened another total shutdown. Finally, at this advanced state of the game, a supremo was appointed who knew something about health and more targeted measures were employed. Promises of payment for every citizen were made. But for many it was all too late.

The frustrations and disappointments of three long months boiled over into anger, demonstrations, civil unrest, even violence. Netanyahu’s court case provided an opportunity to poke fun at him and to forecast his imminent political demise.

Why had there not been proper plans from the start? Why had one man taken responsibility and credit for everything? How could an individual facing charges in court properly address himself to a nation’s problems? One even heard rabid Bibi supporters in the market stalls acknowledging that they had lost confidence in him. Perhaps, after all, the king had no clothes. As with failures of all sorts in a variety of contexts, the person who is down and out is abused by a succession of those who may have wished to do so beforehand but had lacked the courage to dare. The numerous achievements of Likkud governments as a whole and of Netanyahu as their leader in particular were Page 32

gradually being discounted. All the political battles were renewed but with barely any constructive, worthwhile or helpful effects. The Covid19 might yet be conquered again and the war might ultimately be won, and, shrewd and determined operator that he is, Bibi should not yet be written off. Nevertheless, in Israel, perhaps even more than in many other countries, there will undoubtedly be long-term effects in the political, socio-economic, and religious spheres. The virus will leave a painful and permanent mark not only on those who lost family members, health, jobs, investments, as well as time with loved ones, but also on the country’s views of most of its leaders.

Les Enfants Cachés Se Souviennent Edited by Herman Vandormael: Translated into French by Aline Goosens Ros Landy Giving a child’s eye view of the Nazi era, “Les Enfants Cachés Se Souviennent”, is a welcome and significant addition to Holocaust literature. Writing in Flemish, editor Heman Vandormael contributes a historical survey of the period to form the first part of the book. Most interestingly, he introduces informers and bounty hunters as well as those who saved Jewish children.

The second part is devoted to testimony. Ariel Eder, a dear friend of mine, figures among the contributing survivors who were children in hiding at the time of the Nazi invasion of Belgium and Holland.

The book offers opportunity to revive your French and to immerse yourself in the riveting stories of those deserving respect and awe.

Page 33

The Tattooist of Auschwitz

by Heather Morris Barry Landy I have read many books about the Holocaust. By and large they divide into two categories: history and personal stories. This is a personal story but most unusually it is written as a novel based on reminiscences.

The basic story is of two particular people who were transported to Auschwitz as so many others were. He by chance was told to take over the job of tattooing the numbers on the arms of those who were not selected for the gas chambers; she was one of those lucky enough to survive the selection and so came to him to be tattooed. He was Lale Sokolov, she was Gita Furman.

As the publicity material for the book tells us: "In 1942, Lale Sokolov arrived in Auschwitz-Birkenau. He was given the job of tattooing the prisoners marked for survival scratching numbers into his fellow victims’ arms in indelible ink to create what would become one of the most potent symbols of the Holocaust. “Waiting in line to be tattooed, terrified and shaking, was a young girl. For Lale - a dandy, a jack-the-lad, a bit of a chancer it was love at first sight. And he was determined not only to survive himself, but to ensure this woman, Gita, did, too.

So begins one of the most life-affirming, courageous, unforgettable and human stories of the Holocaust: the love story of the tattooist of Auschwitz."

This story survived because Lale Sokolov, the tattooist, told his story to the author when he was 87, after his wife Gita died.

Page 34

There are many differing opinions of the book. I was absorbed because of the context though I was aware that the writing was not of the best.

Some people love the book, others hate it, partly because not all the facts are accurate and partly because of the writing quality. So far as the facts are concerned we could be charitable and say that 60 years on a man of 87 could be forgiven for not necessarily remembering accurately all the details of a traumatic period of his life.

Perhaps the most stringent criticism is from the office of the Auschwitz museum who pointed out a number of basic facts that were incorrect.

The following is from the review in the Guardian: “At the back of the book, Morris thanks two researchers for their brilliant investigative skills in researching ’facts’ to ensure history and memory waltzed perfectly in step.

“But according to the Auschwitz Memorial magazine, Memoria, numerous historical details of the camp are wrong. Their factchecking, which runs to more than seven pages, takes issue with a range of storylines, from the route taken to the camp (the transport could not have travelled through Ostrava and Pszczyna), to Morris’s account of the murder of prisoners in a bus being used as a gas chamber, which does not find confirmation in any sources”.

In response a spokesperson for the publisher told the Guardian: “The Tattooist of Auschwitz is a novel based on the personal recollections and experiences of one man. It is not, and has never claimed to be, an official history. If it inspires people to engage with the terrible events of the Holocaust more deeply, then it will have achieved everything that Lale himself wished for”.

But Sawicki (from the Auschwitz Museum) took issue with Morris’s response.

“Can a story be told without paying attention to the reality of the story? If this would be a complete fictional story, we could Page 35

say that the author does not know much about the history of Auschwitz. This book, however, tells a story of a real person, his real tragic experiences, and this puts much more responsibility on a person who tells this story to the world.

“The number of different errors in the book - not only in simple basic facts but also in the depiction of the reality of Auschwitz can sometimes create more confusion than understanding. It turns a real story into an interpretation - very moving and emotional - that however blurs the authenticity of this true experience. We believe that the survivor’s story deserved better”.

Perhaps read it and judge for yourself?

Bouncing Back – and Forward Stefan Reif’s autobiography Bouncing Back – and Forward is scheduled for publication in January 2021 by Vallentine, Mitchell in London. He has kindly supplied a brief preview, from part of chapter 16, “Meanwhile at Home (1973–84)” The plan is to have at least one launch in Cambridge and the publisher has agreed to offer a significant discount on copies sold at such a launch.

Sabbaths and Festivals in Cambridge, in the 1970s The Cambridge Jewish community had been a strong one in the 1940s, with numerous refugees arriving from Hitler’s Europe–and indeed from evacuated London colleges–to bolster the small number of local observant students. By the time that we arrived in 1973 the tally of observant congregants was not an impressive one. That same summer, another family, Ron and Thelma Domb and their daughters, Dassa and Debora, came from Liverpool. Ron opened a local dental surgery and Thelma was a professional teacher of what was once called domestic science or home economics; I cannot recall what its more politically correct name was by that time. The girls functioned as leaders of a little Page 36

local Bnei Akiva for our children, Tanya and Aryeh, and a few others.

Ros and Barry Landy had been stalwarts of the Orthodox community for many years and they had at one point sent their boys, Aron, David and Joshua to the Jewish boarding school, Carmel College, that had been established by Rabbi Dr Kopul Rosen just after the Second World War and was by then in Wallingford, near Oxford. For the first few years, all three families tended to go to their families in London to spend the most important of the Jewish festivals in a more intensive Jewish atmosphere. This was primarily because there was no minyan in Cambridge for the second (extra) day of the festivals, and also because on the important days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur a cantor would be brought in and would provide the kind of rather clinical–even heartless–service that none of us three families particularly enjoyed.

Not that we so much enjoyed visiting the Stekels (Shulie’s family) in London either. The children were not that happy away from their own rooms, did not much care for the rich and elegant Viennese cuisine that their grandmother always prepared, and found their grandfather’s humour and constant ribbing a little disconcerting. While once sitting in synagogue next to his Grandpa, Aryeh was asked what he thought that the initials MS stood for on Muni’s cufflinks. Without hesitation he answered not Meir or Muni Stekel but ‘Mr Shlemiel’! To his credit, Muni was highly amused and not at all cross, taking great pride in repeating the story to his synagogal colleagues. We therefore soon resolved à trois that we would all stay for the ḥaggim in Cambridge and that we would lead the services ourselves. This was greatly appreciated by all and the little community of observant families grew with the addition (at various points of time) of the Blaukopfs, the Fagelstons, the Romms and the Rosemans, and the arrival of some of my researchers from the Unit, as well as the Freedmans, younger Landy cousins, the Schechters, and the Stones. Other couples, such as Brendel and Charles Lang, and Ruth and Haskell Isaacs, even if less strictly Orthodox, joined our festival services and seemed to derive pleasure at the manner in which they were conducted. Barry Landy, Lawrence Freedman, Paul Fenton and I took it in turns to lead the prayers and Ron Domb sounded the shofar.

When Barry’s father, Harry, and his brother-in-law were in legal trouble over their late father-in-law’s bank management, many of his own Page 37

community abandoned him and he was no longer invited to blow the shofar for them. Having experienced in the case of Muni Stekel how those who are close to you when things are going well turn away when there are financial difficulties, I felt that Harry should be supported.

Ron kindly allowed Harry to replace him as shofar-blower while Ron himself efficiently ran the whole show as the gabbay. There were a number of very distinguished academics in the congregation, among them, Alan and Marilyn Fersht, David and Hanna Tabor, Erwin and Elisabeth Rosenthal, Norman and Tirza Bleehen, Eli Lauterpacht and his mother Lady Rachel, Charles Levene, and Michael and Jeanette Pepper.

At one stage, there were in excess of a dozen observant families and we were able to ensure a minyan on all the necessary occasions. This meant that Tanya and Aryeh could enjoy a familiar enough experience of traditional Jewish Sabbaths and festivals that would make it possible for them to participate without difficulty in the Jewish communities that they entered when they themselves grew up and established families and lifestyles of their own. The Dombs, Landys and Reifs became, and have long since remained, close friends. I began to lead a regular Talmud lesson in my home in 1974 and we covered many tractates in the course of my decades in Cambridge. The tradition has continued until the present (now via Zoom every Wednesday evening!).

One such Cambridge Jewish experience was remarkable enough to warrant here the rehearsal of some details. The final day of all the autumnal festivals is SimḼat Torah. While there were eight days in the festival of Sukkot (Tabernacles) in Israel in the early Middle Ages, there were nine in the Diaspora and the last one needed to acquire an identity of its own. It was given such an identity in Babylonia in or about the eighth century. Since the Diaspora custom was to conclude the annual cycle of pentateuchal readings with Deuteronomy chapter 34 and to begin the cycle again on that same day with the reading of Genesis chapter 1, a celebration was created around that synagogal event. Dancing with the Torah, the singing of special hymns, and the calling to the Torah reading of every male present in the synagogue (instead of just five, six or seven as on other Sabbaths and festivals) became characteristics of the day.

Page 38

On one such Simḥat Torah in the mid-to-late 1970s, the Landys, on their way home from synagogue, “invaded” our home just as we were about to eat, and were of course invited to share lunch with us. We then all went back to their house for some cake and fruit and walked on to the Dombs, ready for afternoon tea. Neither Shulie nor Thelma were ever nonplussed by such unexpected arrivals at meal-times. It was all such a wonderful success that it became an annual event. Shulie made the traditional holoptches (cabbage stuffed with chopped meat) and kigel (baked potato pie) and the other courses were provided by the Landys and Dombs, and then in later years by others too. I should also have mentioned that imbibing lots of strong drink is another feature of that festival and we piously practised that tradition with great enthusiasm. In fact, some of the younger generation learned how not to drink alcohol when they attempted to follow their parents’ example and suffered inevitably unpleasant consequences. When, one year, the number of luncheon guests reached nearly sixty, Shulie and I decided that in future it would be the turn of others to provide the festive fare. Some of them duly did so in later years, but (for me at any rate) some of the original magic seemed to get lost along the way.

But then in 1979 there occurred an ideological clash…

The Founding of the CTJC The growth in the number of Orthodox Jewish families was bound ultimately to lead to a clash with the more established, less committed and larger numbers of local Jews who, while acknowledging their Jewishness, preferred a somewhat lower profile for its expression. They were in many ways more typical of the Anglo-Jewish communities of the day than we more Orthodox families were. They were represented by the Cambridge Jewish Residents’ Association (CJRA), while the students who used the synagogue in Thompson’s Lane (opposite the Master’s Lodge of St John’s), where we held Orthodox services, were the Cambridge University Jewish Society (CUJS). Almost all the local Jewish families were members of the CJRA at that time and it ran the usual kind of Sunday morning Hebrew and Jewish classes for its children.

Ramon Phillips was an excellent teacher who was a Reform Jew and who, with a number of others, had been involved in promoting that Page 39

brand of Jewishness in Cambridge since 1976. Given their majority in that body, the less religiously committed in the CJRA saw no problem in 1979 in offering him the post of headmaster of its Sunday classes while we Orthodox families preferred to have someone who was more traditional in doctrine and practice. They would not heed our strong objections and were determined to press ahead with his appointment.

We warned them that if they did so we would resign our memberships and form our own Orthodox organization. They either did not believe us, or did not care, because they went ahead with their plan and we therefore felt obliged to implement our own.

With the help of professional friends in London we drew up a Trust Deed and laid down a constitution for a newly created Cambridge Traditional Jewish Congregation (CTJC). We avoided the word Orthodox because we felt the need to demonstrate a greater degree of openmindedness than was (and is) common among some Orthodox communities. In making our legal plans, and in our discussions with the lawyer who assisted us, we were aware that there might at some future date be a group of members who would wish to revert to the kind of wishy-washy Jewishness –as we saw it– out of which we had just voted ourselves. We therefore built in safeguards to our ideals and observance by making the religious practice acceptable to the Orthodox Chief Rabbi in London and ensuring that all decisions were to be made by the Trustees and not by any electoral process. If members wished to have an organization more like the CJRA they could always return to that body and not opt to turn the CTJC into such an organization. It later proved to be a wise and prescient precaution.

With some fifty members, we had a most active and successful existence throughout the years now being discussed, beginning with our formal foundation in 1979. With regard to the synagogue in Thompson’s Lane, which was under the control of the CUJS, we drew up an agreement with them and with the CJRA by which we all contributed to the running costs, given that we were all making use of the students’ building for our services. The Reform group created its own congregation in 1981 and eventually moved into its own premises in Auckland Road in 2015, by which time we were all on affable terms with each other. The Orthodox services of those years were well attended, efficiently run, especially outside term-time when the CTJC Page 40

took control. The CUJS’s level of competence varied from student generation to generation, at times reaching admirable levels and at others leaving us more than a little frustrated, and even cross. But it was their building. On the social side, we were also successful. We organized lectures and debates, quiz evenings, plays (directed by Vic Fagelston), roulette evenings around Purim (usually won by Mrs Priscilla Gee), rambles in the countryside during the Pesacḥ holiday (led

by Barry Landy), football games of indeterminate numbers out of doors and five-aside indoors, table tennis competitions and cricket matches.

We also produced a bulletin a few times each year in which news of our activities and more general Jewish content were included.

In response to an appeal from some couples for a greater degree of democracy, we delegated the day-to-day running of the Congregation to the elected officers and committee, and allowed the committee its own bank account, always on condition, as laid down in our Trust Deed, that the Trustees would approve the accounts and activities at their annual meetings. It was, after all, the Trust that was responsible to the Charity Commissioners, and the Trustees therefore took their job very seriously. Most of the children of the enthusiastic CTJC members of those early days eventually went off to live in larger Jewish communities where they became active members. I appreciate that there were those who resented what amounted to the CTJC’s unilateral declaration of independence but I feel strongly that it gave us and our children (as well as visiting Orthodox families) a warm and lively traditional Jewish atmosphere in shul and in our homes that served well to combat the assimilationist trends that were all around us.

See “Seeds of collapse”, p52

Page 41

The finite and the infinite A review of “The beginning of infinity” by David Deutsch, and other thoughts Jonathan Allin This is partly a review of “The beginning of infinity” by David Deutsch, and partly reflections on the finite and infinite prompted by the book.

I’ve attempted to bring together ideas from philosophy, science and cosmology, mathematics, and of course Jewish thinking.

My excuse for including this review is that Deutsch, a theoretical physicist, is Jewish, was born in Haifa, educated in Cambridge and the Other Place, and now works at the Other Place.

A better title for Deutsch’s book would be “The beginning of universality”. Why do some ideas, such as the alphabet, writing, commerce, scientific ideas, become ubiquitous? Unfortunately Deutsch deliberately conflates infinity with “unbounded” and with universality, treating these three separate concepts (to my mind) as a single concept.

Deutsch makes a valid point: a good scientific idea has survived debate and criticism, and will thus over time become universal. Indeed this must be the definition of good science, which nonetheless doesn’t preclude ideas from evolving or being replaced with better ideas that fit more of the available observations. The history of philosophy, on the other hand, is at the mercy of inevitably sketchy, inaccurate, or ambiguous record keeping. We don’t really know what Socrates said, but only what Plato reported that he said. Whereas science has unambiguously moved forward, the same cannot be said of our social or political systems: we continue to suffer decades of misery interspersed with short periods of social enlightenment.

Deutsch states that human progress started with the Enlightenment (from the end of the 17th century to the start of the 19th century, the “long” century), and even then distinguishes between the British Enlightenment and the Continental Enlightenment. The former was Page 42

about gradual improvement towards an ideal, the latter about achieving a Utopia directly, an idea that lead to the bloodshed of the French revolution. I find this hard to accept: humans have been around for less than a million years (compared to the dinosaurs who were around from 230 million years ago to 65 million years ago), civilisation for less than 10,000 years, and the Enlightenment for a few hundred years. How long can we seriously expect the growth of science and knowledge to continue?

The premise behind Deutsch’s book is that humans have the distinction of being universal explainers and constructors, that is to say that we have the ability to explain everything and build anything. Given time and energy there are no limits on what we can achieve: we could bend whole galaxies to our ends. From this he suggests that all sentient beings throughout the universe, having become universal explainers and constructors, would be on a par. Computing power compensates for limited memory and computational ability, and so brings all to the same level. However I’m not sure this is the whole story: whilst all sentient beings may become universal constructors, would they have the same self-awareness or level of consciousness?

At the simplest level we are unique in our story telling, stories and legends that were our attempt to explain the world and which became religious beliefs. But these cannot be good explanations: to say that crops fail or winter comes because the gods are angry or have deserted their worshippers does not offer any useful insight that can be built upon, whereas the scientific method does.

Unfortunately Deutsch builds his book on concepts which he fails to define. “Explanation” is one of these. Science does not, and cannot, “explain” anything, in the sense that it cannot answer the question “why”. All science can do is look for canonical, and ultimately approximate, relationships between observed events. For example Newton’s equations of motion and gravity brought together many disparate observations from Galileo, Kepler, and others, whilst debunking Aristotle’s belief that rest is the natural state of motion to which all things return. However Newton didn’t and couldn’t explain Page 43

time or space. Einstein’s theories of special and general relativity built on the works of Newton, as well as Galileo, Mach, Maxwell and others.

He was able to incorporate in his field equations the hitherto anomalous precession of Mercury’s orbit, the constancy of the speed of light and other massless particles, and other relativistic effects.

However Einstein doesn’t have the last word. We are yet to reconcile relativity with quantum physics, that other bastion of 20th century science.

I suspect that Deutsch picked up some Talmudic training, given his interchangeable use of “infinite” and “unbounded”. The latter is perhaps closer to the Hebrew: ‫( אין סֹוף‬without end) or ‫בלי גבול‬ (without limits). The Greek for infinity (ἄπειρον) can also mean unlimited, though can also mean chaotic. In Greek thinking infinity had negative connotations: in Aristotle's words, "... being infinite is a privation, not a perfection but the absence of a limit...". Pythagoras believed that any given aspect of the world could be represented by a finite arrangement of natural numbers (that is, the integers). Plato believed that even his ultimate form, the Good, must be finite and definite.

There is an interesting association between Tarot and Kabbalah. There are 22 Tarot cards in the Major Arcana (greater secrets), which corresponds nicely with the number of letters in the Hebrew alphabet.

In the 1700s the infinity symbol (∞) began to appear on the Tarot card known as the Juggler or the Magus, which has the associated letter ℵ.

Georg Cantor was the founder of the modern mathematical theory of the infinite and of set theory. He was a devout Lutheran (though almost certainly of Jewish descent) which strongly influenced his nondeterministic views. Cantor used the symbol ℵ0 to stand for the first infinite number, though probably not because of his Jewish roots.

Mathematicians have a history of abusing the concept of infinity. David Hilbert proposes a hotel with infinitely many rooms, his Hilbert Hotel. A traveller arrives wanting a room, but every room is occupied. “No problem”, says the desk clerk, “I’ll just ask each guest to move into the Page 44

next numbered room and you can have room number 1”. Of course contacting an infinite number of guests would take infinite time and energy, which is rather a big problem.

Bertrand Russell was the first to publish the paradox in Georg Cantor’s set theory (Russell’s paradox): “Let R be the set of all sets that are not members of themselves. If R is not a member of itself, then its definition dictates that it must contain itself, and if it contains itself, then it contradicts its own definition as the set of all sets that are not members of themselves”. The resolution to this paradox lead to “first order logic” (which is the foundation for all deductive logic) and in particular to Zermelo–Fraenkel set theory. The price paid is that first order logic is incapable of describing a system with an infinite domain.

But is it meaningful to talk of a system with an infinite domain?

I’m going to claim that most, if not all, of the well-known paradoxes in mathematics, are the result of abusing infinity.

It’s surprisingly hard to find a mathematical definition of infinity.

This idea of infinity could be interpreted as “for any number you can give me, I can give you back a bigger number”. The useful aspect of thinking of infinity as meaning “unlimited” in this way, is that any number we generate can be manipulated (added, multiplied, compared, and so on). However, in the tradition of Alice’s Humpty Dumpty I shall use this idea to define “unlimited”, rather than “infinite”. As an example, Euclid’s proof that there is no largest prime number relies on this idea of “unlimited”, as does any proof by induction.

Or we could define infinity as 1 divided by 0. This definition generally gives the arithmetical results we might expect. For instance, using this definition, we can see that infinity plus infinity gives infinity, or any number times infinity (including infinity times infinity) gives infinity.

Importantly with this definition, zero times infinity, and infinity divided by infinity, is undefined.

Page 45

This brings us to a strange aspect of infinity. If we use our definition of “unlimited”, then numbers behave properly. Given any suitably large number, we can say that half will be even, one third will be divisible by three, one fifth divisible by five, and so on. However when we talk about an infinity of numbers, an infinity of them will be even numbers, an infinity will be divisible by three, an infinity divisible by five, and so on. But because we can’t compare infinities (that is, we can’t say whether one countable infinity is bigger than another) it’s meaningless to ask what percentage of an infinite set of numbers are, say, divisible by five. As another example, we might say that planets suitable for carbon-based life are outrageously rare, but if the universe is infinite we can no longer talk about the likelihood of a planet hosting life.

Deutsch attempts to go around this problem by the use of “measures”.

Unfortunately his argument is circular.

Zeno’s claim that Achilles can never catch the tortoise is a well-known apparent paradox. However it isn’t really a paradox because attempting to add an infinite number of infinitesimals will always be problematic. Another way of stating Zeno’s paradox is to ask “what is the sum of 1/2 + 1/4 + 1/8, and so on to infinity?” You may guess that the answer is 1. However this is really a definition of the sequence, rather than an independently assertible fact: limit theory only shows that for any small value we choose, we can add enough terms such that difference between the sum and 1 will be less than this value. Which is closer to the idea of an “unlimited” number of terms (our first definition), rather than an infinite number of terms (our second definition).

There are a couple of takeaways from this somewhat esoteric discussion: •

Page 46

If an infinity crops up in a mathematical expression, all bets are off. Infinities cannot be normalised. Deutsch’s statement that “mathematicians realised a long time ago that it’s possible to work with infinity” isn’t tenable

•

We are not attempting to say what infinity “is”, but only to provide a definition we can work with

•

Infinity, both in its every day use, and its use in mathematics and cosmology, is a concept not a number

Perhaps one aspect of God that all will agree on, whether or not we accept such an existence, is that God must be infinite. Judaism generally regards the Universe as finite, however there is no non-Divine process that can bridge the gap between the finite and infinite. For instance to change an object’s speed instantaneously would require infinite power. The 16th century Kabbalist Arizal put forward the idea of ‫צמצום‬, or “contraction”, used by an infinite God to create and interact with a finite world. There is a huge philosophy associated with ‫צמצום‬, however perhaps all that matters is that all should be able to agree that ‫ צמצום‬is the necessary miracle of the Divine (again, whether one does or does not accept the Divine).

There is a third aspect of God we might all agree with. If we assume a finite universe, we can calculate the number of particles it contains, which is around 1088 (that is, 1 followed by 88 zeroes). This is a huge number, mainly made up of photons and neutrinos (the stuff of matter, protons, electrons, and so on, that is the “hard stuff”, comprises only 0.1% of the particle count). However, as humongously big as this number is, an infinite God can still devote an infinite amount of attention to every single one of these particles (remember, infinity divided by any number is still infinity).

In general we use comparative descriptions to describe our world. If we say a building is large, we probably mean it’s larger than the average building. This sort of language cannot work when attempting to discuss the infinite. Without boundaries we have nothing to hold onto: we perceive a shape because of the contrast between shape and background. What then, of an infinite God? If we can’t talk about ratios and proportions of an infinite quantity, can God have form? I have a recollection that Maimonides regarded God as formless, and ‫דברים‬ Page 47

2:15-18 may support this, “...for you did not see any likeness (‫)תמונה‬ on this day...”

I believe it was Fred Hoyle who said something like “The universe is either finite or infinite. Neither proposition is plausible”.

We should agree on what we mean by “the universe”. In keeping with Humpty Dumpty, by (my) definition there is only one universe. When cosmologists such as Brian Greene talk about a multiverse (perhaps in an attempt to explain quantum indeterminacy or the “Goldilocks” dilemma), it’s less error prone if we think in terms of a single universe that is split into regions which are more or less causally connected.

In an infinite universe stars and galaxies would still be randomly distributed, so each point in the universe is unique (for various reasons the idea that an infinite universe would contain an infinite number of copies of each of us doesn’t hold water). However, as we zoom out to larger scales this fine structure of stars, galaxies, and galactic clusters, would be less and less visible and increasingly irrelevant; at the same time it might be that larger structures start to become apparent. But as we go all the way to an infinite universe, to have a form requires that the universe is made up from a finite number of “large scale” structures, each of which must be of infinite size. I don’t think this tenable.

Perhaps the preceding argument suggests also that an infinite God would be formless. The Oneness of the Divine is the central tenant of Judaism, which does seem to require that God is formless and without large scale structure.

Recent thinking is leaning toward an infinite universe, however this appears to be based on faulty assumptions about the “shape” of the universe. If you’ve read any book on cosmology, it will probably state something like: “the universe either has positive, zero, or negative curvature, leading to a closed, stable, or infinite universe”. For many reasons this description fails. Not only does it fail in two spatial dimensions, it becomes meaningless when we consider 4 dimensions Page 48

(three of space and one of time). So even though astronomical measurements may suggest that the expansion of the universe is accelerating, this does not mean that the universe is infinite: it can still be finite and closed.

What is a “closed” universe? A universe could be closed in one or more spatial dimensions, which means that if I set off on a long journey (billions of light years), I will eventually come back to my starting point.

Many cosmology books will use the surface of the earth as an analogy: if I set off in a straight line, after about 40,000km I’ll be back where I started. Regrettably this analogy generates more heat than insight. You might also ask, why can’t the universe just come to an end? However I don’t think anyone would propose this as a suitable model because you could then legitimately ask “what is beyond the end?”

Deutsch attempts to explain quantum indeterminacy (for instance, when and in what direction will a radioactive nucleus decay) by an “uncountable infinity” of universes.

Now an uncountable infinity is yet another idea of infinity, which is an infinity of the continuum. Whereas the integers (1, 2, 3, and so on) are countable even if by some definition they are infinite, the irrational numbers (those with a countably infinite number of decimal digits) are not countable. Cantor desperately attempted to prove that ℵ1, which is equivalent to 2ℵ0, was equal to C, the infinity of the continuum. This is known at the Continuum Hypothesis.

Kurt Gödel picked up Cantor’s mantle and helped to prove many ideas of set theory and transfinite numbers. Gödel attempted, but failed, to prove the Continuum Hypothesis (and the associated Axiom of Choice).

However, what he did show (with a proof completed by Paul Cohen in 1963) was that anything that could be proved for transfinite numbers would have no impact on finite numbers: the finite and transfinite are two separate domains.

Put it this way, explaining our world by invoking an infinite Prime Cause feels no less rational than invoking an uncountable infinity of universes.

Page 49

My personal Belief (note the capital “B”) is that the universe is spatially closed and finite. That is, the universe has a defined and measurable size.

Maimonides believed the universe to be finite in space (though he also adopted Aristotle’s idea of concentric heavenly spheres with Earth at their centre). Whereas Aristotle believed that the world had existed from eternity, because every event must have a cause, Maimonides believed the eternity of the world was unproveable. God as the Prime Cause, perhaps naively, suggests that the world has a finite history.

What might Aristotle and Maimonides have made of quantum randomness? Would they still be cause-and-effect determinists?

Modern cosmology (which perhaps started in the 1965 with the discovery of the cosmic microwave background) provides strong evidence for a universe that is 13.7 billion years old. Steady state models with an infinite past and future, such as Hoyle’s or Einstein’s, have been superseded. The other option is that the universe is closed in time, which is to say that if I hang around long enough everything that has happened will happen again. Whilst I can get my head around a spatially closed universe, a temporally closed one is beyond me. This leads however to the aforementioned problem: if the universe is finite in time but not closed, we can legitimately ask what came before, or what will come after.

If the universe has a finite past, can it have an infinite future? Can the universe be semi-infinite in time? To me, this is infeasible: it would mean that we are infinitesimally close to the start of the universe, which really means that we are at the start and have made no progress in time. By the rules of probability the start of the universe should be infinitely far in our past.

Whilst the Greeks and others were concerned with origins and had their creation myths, less thought was given to eternity or the end of days. Judaism and the Talmud appear to support the immortality of the soul (there’s an interesting thread of thinking through Maimonides, Page 50

Moses Mendelssohn, and Immanuel Kant, toward what can only be described as “political correctness”). I can’t imagine an infinite life: time and change would have no meaning, fulfilment would have no meaning. We describe God as being outside of time, and so perhaps the same for our immortal souls, though it’s not clear what this might mean.

Back to the book itself. My Amazon review gives it 3 stars out of 5.

There are too many ideas which don’t hang together or are irrelevant (there’s a long section on memes), too many concepts are poorly defined or not defined at all (what is “supernatural, what is a “better explanation”?), and there is too much that I simply disagree with (humans think whereas at best a machine can only pretend to think: but what is the difference?). After reading the book I realised I was probably both a “finitist” and an “instrumentalist”. Deutsch equates one with the other, and is disparaging of both.

But I’m glad I ploughed through to the end, if only because it forced me to clarify my own thinking.

Finally! This is not a rigorous scholarly work. It’s not been through the fire of review and feedback and has more holes than the proverbial Swiss cheese. Perhaps the best I can hope for is that it will prompt some discussion, feedback, and criticism.

I’d like to thank members of our community who have shared their ideas.

Referenced material 1.

https://math.dartmouth.edu/~matc/Readers/HowManyAngels/InfinityMi nd/IM.html 2. https://www.aish.com/sp/k/Kabbala_2_Perceiving_the_Infinite.html 3. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russell%27s_paradox 4. https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/immortality-belief-in-abodiless-existence/ 5. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/First-order_logic 6. The mystery of the Aleph: mathematics, the Kabbalah, and the search for infinity, Amir Aczel

Page 51

Seeds of collapse Grape pips reveal the collapse of an ancient economy in the grip of plague and climate change Daniel Fuks While we all try to understand the new reality imposed by the COVID19 pandemic, many look to the past for historical precedents such as the Spanish flu of 1918 and the Black Plague of the 14th century. The first historically attested wave of what later became known as the Black Plague (caused by the bacterium Yersinia pestis) spread throughout the Byzantine empire and beyond, in 541 CE. Known as Justinianic plague, after the emperor Justinian who contracted the disease but survived, this ancient epidemic caused high mortality and had a range of socio-economic effects. Around the same time, an enormous volcanic eruption in 536 CE marked the beginning of the coldest decade in the last two thousand years (another volcano of similar proportions erupted in 539 or 540 CE). However, scholars disagree as to just how far-reaching and devastating were the mid-6th century epidemic and climate change. This scholarly debate is perhaps unsurprising considering that even today, leaders and policymakers around the world differ on the severity and correct response to COVID19, not to mention climate change. One reason that hindsight is not 2020 when it comes to historic plagues is that ancient reports tend to exaggerate, or underrepresent, the human tolls, while archaeological evidence for such things is very hard to find. Recently, colleagues and I discovered new and compelling evidence for a significant economic downturn on the fringe of the Byzantine empire in the aftermath of a major pandemic in the mid-6th century CE. The research, published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, USA, reconstructs the rise and fall of commercial viticulture in the middle of the arid Negev desert during Late Antiquity.

The research was performed as part of my PhD as a student in the Deptartment of Israel Studies and Archaeology at Bar-Ilan University, in Page 52

Professor Ehud Weiss’ Archaeobotany Lab, and as a team member of the Negev Byzantine Bio-Archaeology Research Program, “Crisis on the Margins of the Byzantine Empire”, headed by Professor Guy Bar-Oz of the University of Haifa. This project seeks to discover when and why the agricultural settlement of the Negev Highlands was abandoned.

Agriculture in this arid desert was made possible through rainwater runoff farming which reached its peak in the Byzantine period, as seen at sites like Elusa, Shivta, and Nessana. In the Negev Highland sites today, the ruins of well-built stone structures attest to their former glory, but our team, guided by field archaeologists from the Israel Antiquities Authority, Dr Yotam Tepper and Dr Tali Erickson-Gini, discovered even more compelling evidence in an unexpected place: the trash. “Your trash says a lot about you. In the ancient trash mounds of the Negev, there is a record of residents’ daily lives – in the form of plant remains, animal remains, ceramic sherds, and more”, explains Bar-Oz. “In the ‘Crisis on the Margins’ project, we excavated these mounds to uncover the human activity behind the trash, what it included, when it flourished, and when it declined”.

The study of seeds found in archaeological excavations is part of the field known as archaeobotany (aka paleoethnobotany). The Bar-Ilan University Archaebotany Lab, in which most of this research was conducted, is the only lab in Israel dedicated to identifying ancient seeds and fruits. Professor Ehud Weiss, the lab’s head, explains that the task of archaeobotany is to “get into the pantry – or in this case the trash – of ancient people and to study their interactions with plants”.

Archaeobotany reconstructs ancient economy, environment, and culture, but the way there is not easy. “Grain by grain, you need to sort through endless sediment samples, looking for seeds, identifying them and counting each one, as it is written ‘…if one can count the dust of the earth, then your seed too can be counted’ (Genesis 13:16)”. For the present study, nearly 10,000 seeds of grape, wheat, and barley were retrieved and counted from 11 trash mounds at three sites.

“Identifying seed and fruit remains is a unique capability of our lab”, says Weiss, “and it relies on the Israel National Reference Collection of Page 53

Plant Seeds and Fruit held in our lab, and on years of experience in retrieving, processing, and analyzing plant remains from sites of all periods in Israeli archaeology”.

One of our first observations was the high numbers of grape seeds in the ancient trash mounds. This fitted well with previous scholars’ suggestions that the Negev was involved in export-bound viticulture.

Byzantine texts laud the vinum Gazetum or “Gaza wine” as a sweet white wine exported from the ancient port of Gaza throughout the Mediterranean and beyond. This wine was generally transported in a type of amphora known as “Gaza Jars” or “Gaza wine Jars”, which are also found in sites throughout the Mediterranean. In Byzantine Negev trash mounds, these Gaza Jars appear in high quantities.

I sought to determine whether there were any interesting trends in the relative frequency of grape pips in the rubbish. This is how I explain the logic that guided me: Imagine you’re an ancient farmer with a plot of land to feed your family. On most of it, you plant cereals like wheat and barley because that’s how you get your bread. On a smaller part, you plant a vineyard and other crops like legumes, vegetables, and fruit trees, for your family’s needs.

But one day you realize that you could sell the excellent wine you produce, for export, and earn enough cash to buy bread and a bit more. Little by little you expand your vineyard and move from subsistence farming to commercial viticulture.

If we look at your trash and count the seeds, we’ll discover a rise in the proportion of grape pips relative to cereal grains. And that’s exactly what we discovered: a significant rise in the ratio of grape pips to cereal grains between the 4th century CE and the mid-6th century.

Then, suddenly, it declines.

I spoke about these findings in a Ted-style talk hosted by Bet Avichai last year in Jerusalem. Meanwhile, together with Dr Tali Erickson-Gini, Page 54

an expert in ancient Negev pottery, we took the analysis to the next level. We checked whether there were similar trends in the proportion of Gaza Wine Jars to Bag-Shaped Jars, the latter being much less suited to camelback transport from the Negev Highlands to the port at Gaza.

And bingo – the rise and initial decline of Gaza Jars tracked the rise and fall of the grape pips.

We concluded that the commercial scale of viticulture in the Negev, attested by the grape pip ratios, was connected to Mediterranean trade, attested by the Gaza Jar ratios. In other words, a novel archaeological testimony to an international commercial economy from some 1500 years ago!

Like today, this situation brought unprecedented prosperity, but also greater vulnerability to shocks. In the mid-6th century, there were a few such shocks that could explain the decline. One of them is Justinianic plague, which had a high death toll in Byzantium and other parts of the empire. In the article, we explain that the resulting contracting market for Gaza products would have detrimentally impacted the Negev economy, even while trade at nearby Gaza may have continued. If the plague reached the Negev, it could also have harmed the local production capacity and supply of agricultural products in general by inducing a shortage of agricultural laborers.

A different shock of that period was a volcanic eruption of global proportions in late 535 or early 536 CE, which covered the Northern Hemisphere’s atmosphere with dust and caused decade-long global cooling (another volcanic eruption of similar magnitude occurred in 539 CE). This led to drought in Europe, but may have increased precipitation, possibly including high-intensity flash-flooding, in the southern Levant. We cannot say for sure what broke the Negev-Gaza pack camel’s back, but the observed economic decline on one hand, and the well-attested to plague and climate change on the other, make for compelling consiliences.

The Sisyphean task of sorting and counting seeds may not appear to be the most exciting, but the research on archaeological plant finds is Page 55

innovative and influential, whilst also demonstrating the ingenuity and insightfulness involved in ancient peoples’ interactions with plants. Guy Bar-Oz states “The discovery of the rise and fall of commercial viticulture in the Byzantine Negev supports other recent evidence unearthed by the ‘Crisis on the Margins’ project for major agricultural and settlement expansion in the 5th to mid-6th century followed by decline. It appears that agricultural settlement in the Negev Highlands received such a blow that it was not revived until modern times.

Significantly, the decline came nearly a century before the Islamic conquest of the mid-seventh century”.

Two of the most likely triggers for the mid-6th century collapse – climate change and plague – reveal inherent vulnerabilities in politicaleconomic systems, then and now. The difference is that the Byzantines didn’t see it coming. We can actually prepare ourselves for the next outbreak or the imminent consequences of climate change. The question is, will we be wise enough to do so?

Daniel Fuks is a PhD student in archaeobotany at the Land of Israel Studies Dept. of Bar-Ilan University, Israel.

Keeping it in the family Jacqueline Lewis For some 40 years, without fail, Evelyn Rose MBE contributed her weekly recipe to the JC. Published in 1976, her “Complete International Jewish Cookbook” went into three editions. Here were recipes in which the kosher and the healthy made for a great mix.

Inevitably, Evelyn passed on her skills to her daughter, Judi. In New York, Judi worked as a cookery Page 56

writer and teacher. As a girl, she’d gone to Manchester High School together with her cousin, Jackie. Now a GP and nutritionist living near Broughton Park, Jackie is also co-chair of a voluntary organisation, Salford Healthy Communities, advocating for the health of the ultraOrthodox community. One day, at a local kosher café she saw a chef tipping a whole bag of sugar into a pan of soup. This prompted her talks on nutrition.

Five years ago, she asked Judi to collaborate on a book on healthy Jewish cookery. Covid-19 has hit the Jewish community hard. It has highlighted the dangers of obesity and compelled a dietary rethink.

Judi and Jackie’s new book couldn’t be more timely. “To Life! Healthy Jewish Food” includes healthy adaptations of traditional recipes but also many contemporary recipes, including vegetarian, vegan and gluten free dishes. Profits from the book are being shared with three charities: “Chai Cancer Care”, “World Jewish Relief” and “Save a Child’s Heart”.

A 20% discount is available if purchased directly from the publisher https://www.youcaxton.co.uk/tolife/. Use the discount code SHUL2020.

Page 57

Some of our favourite children’s books for Rosh HaShanah Laila and Helen Goldrein My daughter Laila is an avid reader and has always loved books. Over the years, we’ve amassed quite a collection of Jewish picture books, stories, biographies and novels. Each year for Rosh Hashanah I try to find one or more children’s books about the Jewish new year to engage her interest, explain some of the traditions, and introduce concepts like teshuva (repentance).

This year Laila and I decided to make a list of some of our favourite Rosh Hashanah children’s books and share it with you. Hopefully you’ll find a book or two on this list that your own family will enjoy.

Penguin Rosh HaShanah by Jennifer Tzivia Macleod This cute picture book explains the very basics of the festival through the medium of penguins! Each page has one or two sentences, and an accompanying photograph of these adorable Antarctic birds. The text touches on traditional foods, apologising to friends, and the importance of family. At the end of the book are instructions to make origami penguins!

Laila says, “This is a really nice and simple book explaining a few elements of Rosh Hashanah. The penguins are super cute and kind of funny!”

Suitable for ages 2-5.

Page 58

Sammy Spider’s first Rosh HaShanah, by Sylvia A Rouss and Katherine Janus Kahn If you have a Jewish child you’ll almost certainly have come across the Sammy Spider books before. We love their bright, paper-cut illustrations and gentle humour. The story follows the Shapiro family as they prepare for Rosh HaShanah – making Shana Tova cards, baking challah, and preparing apples to dip in honey. The family also wear their best new clothes to go to synagogue where they will hear the rabbi blow the shofar. Overall, a great introduction to what a child might expect of the festival.

Laila says, “I liked this book because it was very funny. The illustrations are really interesting.”

Great for ages 3-7.

Apples and Honey, a Rosh HaShanah story, by Jonny Zucker And Jan Barger Cohen This sweet picture book covers apples and honey, shul attendance, and shofar blowing, but also introduces the ritual of Tashlich – throwing crumbs into a river along with your bad deeds from the previous year. At the end of the book are a couple of pages with slightly more in-depth information, making this a great book if you’re going to be talking to your child’s nursery or reception class about Rosh HaShanah.

Page 59

Laila says, “This one doesn’t have much of a story, but it reminds me of some of the things I do with my own family.”

Suitable for ages 2-6.

Engineer Ari and the Rosh HaShanah Ride, By Deborah Bodin Cohen and Shahar Kober We are BIG fans of Engineer Ari! He and his friends are train drivers working on the new railway from Jaffa to Jerusalem in 1892. The book blends Ari’s preparation for Rosh HaShanah with the tale of the historic first train journey between the cities, and introduces the concept of teshuva as Ari literally turns the train around.

Almost every page also provides an opportunity to shout “toot toot”!

Laila says, “I liked this story because as Ari goes along his train journey, which he initially bragged about, he realises that he shouldn’t have been so boastful.”

A great book for kids aged 4-8.

Even Higher, A Rosh HaShanah story by IL Peretz, Adapted by Eric A Kimmel and Jill Webber This lovely retelling of a classic Jewish folktale reminds us of the importance of good deeds and kindness to other people. I love the quirky illustrations and the goats that pop up on almost every page!

Laila says, “The pictures were nice – I enjoyed the illustrations of the goats!”

Perfect for ages 4+.

Page 60

New Year at the pier, by April Halprin Wayland and Stéphane Jorisch This slightly longer book explains the ritual of Tashlich – and the importance of saying sorry for wrongdoings. The main character, Izzy, explores his feelings as he apologises to friends and family, and receives apologies from others.

Laila says, “This is a very inspirational story. After I read it, I wanted to apologise for things that I could have done better. Also, the drawings are full of detail.”

Suitable for ages 7-10.

Gershon’s Monster, retold by Eric A Kimmel and Jon J Muth I saved my favourite till last! This is another classic folk story brought up to date by Eric A Kimmel. It shows how our own selfish actions can come back to haunt us, and how real changes in behaviour are necessary for teshuva – repentance – to have any meaning.

Although it is a beautifully illustrated large format picture book, this is probably one for older children as it can be quite scary for little ones.

Laila says, “The main character is really horrible! I hope I never meet anyone like him. He is almost as scary as the monster.”

Suitable for children aged 7+.

Page 61

Festival calendar 5781, 2020-21 The services are held in the Synagogue, 3 Thompson's Lane, by arrangement with the Cambridge University Jewish Society. All enquiries regarding the services should be addressed to Rabbi Leigh (07830160994).

There will be services throughout the High Holidays and we look forward to welcoming you.

Of course, due to the COVID pandemic, we have prepared the Shul in a manner that will protect everyone in attendance to the best of our abilities and in accordance with the latest guidance. The services will be shortened as far as possible.

The following is what is currently planned but may need to be altered if circumstances change.

At this time we are unable to announce service times for Succot.

To attend the services it will be necessary to prebook using an online form at https://www.ctjc.org.uk/high-holidays-attendance.

Erev Rosh HaShanah

Friday 18 September

Shabbat and festival commences

6.51pm

Rosh Hashanah 1st day

Saturday 19 September

Morning service Shabbat ends and candles for 2nd day are lit

Rosh HaShanah 2nd day Morning service Festival ends

Shabbat Shuvah Shabbat commences Morning service Shabbat ends

Page 62

10.00am 7.49pm Sunday 20 September 10.00am 7.47pm Saturday 26 September 6.35pm 10.00am 7.33pm

Erev Yom Kippur

Sunday 27 September

Fast commences Kol Nidrei

6.30pm 6.45pm

Yom Kippur

Monday 28 September

Morning service Reading of the Law Yizkor (approx) Afternoon service and Neilah Fast terminates

Erev Succot Shabbat and festival commences

Succot 1st day Shabbat ends and candles for 2nd day are lit

Succot 2nd day Festival ends

Hoshanah Rabbah Shabbat and festival commences

Shemini Atzeret Shabbat ends and candles for 2nd day are lit

Simchat Torah Festival ends

10.00am 11.00am 11.45pm 6.00pm 7.28pm Friday 2 October 6.19pm Saturday 3 October 7.16pm Tuesday 4 October 7.14pm Friday 9 October 6.03pm Saturday 10 October 7.01pm Sunday 11 October 6.59pm

Page 63

Page 64