Purely Commentary
'There's an old story about two good
friends who were constantly together, who
shared confidences on nearly everything,
who became inseparable in their attach-
ment. One was tall and the other was a
bit shriveled and somewhat deformed.
One day, in their intimacy, the taller
turned to his friend and said:
"We have always shared our thoughts,
there have been no secrets between us.
But there is one thing I have kept from
you and now wish to impart it to you:
I am a Jew."
Whereupon his friend turned to him and
said: "I am grateful for the confidence we
have in each other. I, too, have a secret to
impart to you: I am a hunchback."
This story comes to mind upon reading
the puzzling confessional that is more of
an apology marred by a sense of shame—
the essay in New Statesman of London by
Bernard Levin entitled "Am I a Jew?"
Much has been said and written about
Jews who suffer from self-hatred. Many—
far too many — of our younger Jewish
writers, some of whom reached high rungs
on the ladders of best sellers, have dis-
graced us by their ugly descriptions of Jews
under the guise that it is "contemporary
literature." Many of them evidenced a
sense of self-deprecation at being Jewish.
Bernard Levin strikes a high note in this
type of self-hatred.
This is exactly what this type of "Am
I a Jew?" literature denotes: it is a low
degree of self-hatred which is at the very
root of much of the tragedy of people who
are ashamed of their background, who
have no pride in their heritage, who are
so apologetic when they speak about their
being Jewish that they go out of their way
—Bernard Levin does it in his article—to
say they relish Jewish food and Jewish
. jokes but they are unable to explain any-
thing, other than galgenhumor—humor on
the gallows.
There is a wealth of Jewish humor,
but the self-hating were the stage Jews,
and they did not know that one could turn
to the Bible for humor. But Bernard Levin,
in typical self-deprecation, managed to find
what he calls "old obsessions."
On the question of food: if the writer
of the shameful article in the New States-
man believes he has discovered a new
culinary vista, he is in grave error. More
than 60 years ago, Dr. Max Nordau, in his
comments on this type of Jew who is
so ready to acknowledge the food aspect
of his self-pitying being, in a famous speech
at one of the early World Zionist Con-
gresses, said about this type of Jew. "Sie
sind such Juden? Sie sind bauch-Juden."
Which means: "these also are Jews? they
are stomach-Jews."
Well, stomach-Jew Bernard Levin also
claims to be enjoying a Jewish story and
he states in his article: "I still laugh when
my sister tells the story of the kreplach,
not because the goyim can't understand it,
but because of its Thurberesque suggestion
of the frailty of human happiness and the
prevalence of unreason." Then, as a con-
clusion to his article—could it have been
due to a stomach ailment?—he returns to
the kreplach and states: "The proprietor of
my favorite Jewish restaurant tells me that
a high. and growing, proportion of his
customers are not Jewish. For my part, I
reserve the right to go on laughing at the
story of the kreplach while not particularly
caring for the kreplach themselves."
So he isn't even a stomach-Jew, after
all! And in the course of his article he
doesn't even once attempt to tell what the
kreplach story is! Yet, so important a
periodical as New Statesman accepted
worthless tripe of this type—a piece that
denigrates and ridicules Jews and Juda-
ism.
In reality, the denigration is of Bernard
Levin himself. He asks, in the title of his
article. "Am I a Jew?", and in the course
of it he asserts: "Of course, I am begging
the question. I know perfectly well that I
am a Jew; what I am really inquiring into
is what this means to me." And on this
score a very" interesting comment on an
Eternal Li' ht TV nrogram comes to mind.
7n a Orem-tie e-'isode portrayed by Howard
Fast, a non-Jewish performer who addressed
himself to a Jewish group and said:
"All right. A black man is black. He
looks at his skin and knows it. The Turk
is a Turk. He talks Turkish. He is Turk-
ish. A Dutchman is a Dutchman. They
take it for granted. But I watch Jews
and they seem to be members of a de-
bating society that doesn't exist."
It isn't Jews this non-Jewish performer
was watching but a group of Bernard
Levins who are able to get a platform in
periodicals like the New Statesman. And
since they have acquired such important
platforms we must deal with them. They
are, we believe, self-hating, else the author
in question would not write us off so
speedily.
In the concluding paragraph of his ar-
ticle, just before the above quoted two
sentences about the Jewish restaurant
owner and the confession that he doesn't
like kreplach after all, Levin said:
"If you do not consider yourself Jewish
enough to go to Israel, and not Judaistic
enough to go to the synagogue, what is left
but a vague necessity to belong? And this
will disappear, or at any rate be dispersed,
with further intermarriage and assimila-
tion; so, of course, will, the superficialities
attributable to upbringing and environ-
ment."
Isn't this writing us off a bit too hastily?
So many have tried to contribute to the
demise of our people. Jews themselves,
through intermarriage, by assimilating, had
been partners in an effort to hasten the
disappearance of Jewry. It didn't help. We
are here. The Psalmist sang "lo omut ki
ekhyeh . . ."—"I shall not die but live,"—
and he proved the more realistic.
Indeed, Jews have abandoned their faith,
they left the Jewish fold, they have con-
certed or vanished in other fashions. But
they weren't missed and they weren't
counted.
True: our numbers often declined. There
were decimations. Hitler did even more:
he killed off a third of our people. But
there is a traditional Jewish feeling of con-
fidence that even when there is a mere
shearit Yisrael—just a remnant of survivors
—the people's life goes on and Israel re-
mains undying and indestructible.
What a pity that this needs to be said !
Why should we have to bother with a
Bernard Levin? If he doesn't like us, he is
welcome to leave us, to change his name,
to refuse to worship with us, to decline to
go to Israel. But why does he bother us
with his nonsense?
And if a Turk were to write a piece
entitled "Am I a Turk?", would New States-
man similarly publish it?
Why, then, should we bother dealing
with the self-haters, with the self-deprecat-
ing, with those who would place us in a
museum, or brand us as a kreplach people?
Because the magazines that give them a
platform are important and because some
Jews might be misled. Even more important
is the fact that non-Jews could be misled
into believing that all Jews are about ready
to commit ha-ra-ki-ri. Therefore it needs
to be said that peoplehood and faith aren't
that cheap, that great legacies aren't aban-
doned so readily, that one doesn't question
his parentage with ridicule or examine
it through microscopic lenses with an
aim and a hope to locate cancerous growths
that are certain to destroy its origin.
Indeed, no one is compelled to claim
and to adhere to a kinship with Jews.
Those who desire to leave us do so anyway,
but they need not foist the matter onto a
public platform for a debate whether or
not one is a Jew. Those who retain kinship
remain in the fold, whether they are the
religious or the secular—and each in his
way has the inspiration for doing what he
does, for retaining the loyalties that keep
him linked to Jewry.
And for those who retain the link and
are inspired by it there are good reasons
for it. While giving our best to every nation
with whom we share citizenship, we also
are a world community. No other people
has such an international brotherhood as
does world Jewry. Wherever we may turn
we find coreligionists, fellow Jews, kins-
men. There is cause for pride in such a
relationship because our people in all
climes and in all spheres •have given• so
much to mankind and remain living wit-
nesses to aspirations always to give the
best of ourselves for the good of all peo-
ples everywhere.
Surely, there is no need to apologize
for this. There is so much of the positive
in Jewish life that we should be enabled
to transmit the pride in our Jewishness to
our children, and while we know that we
shall always lose a few here and there—
through assimilation, intermarriage and,
most regrettably, indifference—we always
also make some gains.
The kreplach-Jew apparently has little
to offer. He can't hurt us. He might humili-
ate us for a passing moment, but in the
end it is only his own self-hatred and self-
shame. And we must not permit that his
ridicule in questioning his own Jewishness
should mislead our children: that's where
our obligation begins to make certain that
our youth knows and understands its heri-
tage.
The self-hating Jews who seek escape
yet must acknowledge their origin are a
Nostalgic Jews, Kreplach-Minded, the
Self - Negating . . . and the Lasting
Admonition of a Psalmist's Faith
most unhappy lot. They know whence they
stem, but their sense of shame of their
background is a source of perplexity, un-
certainty, tension, inner disturbance.
They are a pitiful lot. They seek escape
in liberalism which often results in delu-
sion. They are like the Marxists of old who
said that the solution to the Jewish prob-
lem lies in the liberation of the masses
among all nations, only to learn that
socialists themselves soon were among the
leaders in anti-Semitic movements. Note
the situations in Russia, in a number of
East European countries, in the British
Labor Party under Bevin.
All of this stems from a lack of knowl-
edge. But the Jew who knows, who takes
pride in his inherited ideals and in his
ancestry, who understands his history,
never faces such tensions and delusions.
He knows what to expect. He is amply pre-
pared to face the issues that confront a
people that is so often subjected to attacks
and whose security is never fully assured.
Ignorance, self-hate, lack of pride, lead
to a loss of dignity and self-respect. A loss
of self-respect leads to disrespect — and
disrespect often is directed at one's own
kinsmen. It is for these that we feel a
sense of keen regret and compassion. They
are such an unhappy lot—and they could
be so happy as proud Jews!
*
*
Edmond
Fleg
Rebuke
An
The late Edmond Fleg, the great French
poet, novelist, historian who became an
ardent Zionist; who wrote an excellent life
of Jesus while describing the glories of
Jewish life, once wrote a satire on the
subject we have just dealt with. Under
the title "Why Do You Fast on Yam Kip-
pur?" he penned an imaginary dialogue.
In a translation from the French which
appeared some 15 years ago in the Paris
magazine Evidences, this Edmond Fleg
dialogue follows:
"Why do I fast on Yom Kippur?" my
doctor said. "That is very simple. I fast on
Yam Kippur out of respect for the memory
of my late father."
"That is your only reason?"
"The only one."
"Mink again. You cannot think of any
other reason?"
"Not one."
"My dear friend, will you allow me to
ask you a few short questions in the Socra-
tic manner? Your answers may lead us to
some interesting discoveries."
"Go ahead."
"Do you contribute to charities?"
"My heart is not made of stone."
"And your father, was he a generous
man?"
"Very."
"Are you charitable out of respect for
his memory?"
"I don't think so. I give to charities be-
cause .. . because . . ."
"Because what?"
"For my own. satisfaction."
"All right. Did your father tell lies?"
"Never."
"And you—do you lie, do you murder?"
"As little as possible."
"Out of respect for the memory of your
father? Surely not. You don't tell lies and
you don't murder . . ."
"For my own satisfaction!'
"In short, you observe the Ten Com-
mandments."
"Not all ten of them . . . perhaps three
or four at the most."
"Right. Let's say five Commandments.
You observe five Commandments for your
personal satisfaction. But you fast on Yorn
Kippur."
"Out of respect for the memory of my
father."
"Perfect. Now, be so kind as to tell me
whether your father, while praying, used to
put those leather straps which one calls
Tefillin on his forehead and arm?"
"Every morning."
"And you? Do you do this?"
"Never."
"Did he celebrate the seder, on the eve-
ning of Pesach?"
"Every year."
"Do you do the same?"
"I would not be able to."
"Did he eat kosher?"
"Of course."
"You did away with it?"
"Certainly."
"Summing up, he practised all the cus-
toms of Judaism. Out of respect for his
memory, you should not have abandoned
any of those customs, whereas you only
non one: the fast of Yom Kippur. Why?"
THE DETROIT JEWISH NEWS
2—Friday, August 27, 1965
By Philip
Slomovitz
"My father considered Yom Kippur to
be of more importance than all the rest.
When he came home at the end of the fast,
I still see him, his face radiant."
"How do you explain that preference?"
"Yom Kippur was as dear to him as
Israel itself. This fast, in his eyes, contained
all that Judaism contains."
"If I understand rightly, you fast on
Yom Kippur, in order to preserve within
you something of Judaism."
"Certainly not! I care about Judaism
little as about Christianity, Mahamme
ism, Buddhism and Confucianism."
"Just a moment. Let me finish my sen-
tence. You fast on Yom Kippur in order to
preserve in yourself some aspect of Juda-
ism . . ."
"Not at all."
‘`. . . Something of Judaism, out of res-
pect for the memory of your father."
"All right, yes. If you want to put it that
way."
"You see we agree on that. And may I
ask you whether you believe in the im-
mortality of the soul?"
"I don't even believe in the soul."
"Then, according to you, your father is
no more. He does not know you. He does
not see you. You cannot please him any
more nor can you displease him. Your res-
pect for his memory cannot mean anything
to him."
"His memory lives within me."
"Your father therefore is nothing else
but a part of your conscious self."
"A part of my conscious self which I
value more than anything else."
"Therefore, you fast on Yom Kippur
out of respect for a part of yourself—
which again means that you fast on Yom
Kippur for your personal satisfaction."
"Excuse me, excuse me . . ."
"In the same way as you observe half
of the Ten Commandments for your own
satisfaction."
"Oh, but . . ."
"But what?"
"Let us distinguish between ... "
"Distinguish between what? You want
to preserve within yourself something of
Judaism out of respect for the memory of
your father, but, as the memory of your
father is nothing but a part of yourself, this
does not mean anything else than that for
"ourself you want to preserve in you some-
thing of Judaism. Now contradict this if
you can."
"And so what? What does this prove?"
"I don't know. We shall see. Do you like
to fast?"
"I prefer to have a good meal."
"And you deprive yourself of a good
meal for your personal satisfaction?"
"That I did not say."
"iTou said it by implication. Isn't it
rather a strange satisfaction to depriye
yourself of a pleasure? But perhaps, after
all, it is not strange that for your personal
satisfaction you abstain from lying, steal-
ing, killing? Suppose you had to attend
professionally to an enemy of yours. As a
doctor it would be easy for you to put him
out of the way, without any danger to your-
self. Would you do this? No, of course not!
But why not?"
"My duty as a doctor."
"There is therefore such a thing as
duty."
"Professional duty, yes."
"But fasting on Yom Kippur is perh
also a duty?"
"A duty to whom?"
"To yourself, for instance, because on
that day you do not eat."
"You're too quick for me."
"I'm only following you, old chap. I
don't do anything else but follow you. This
duty, what is its origin? Who prohibited
eating on Yom Kippur? Moses did. You
obey Moses."
"Do I?"
"And from whom did Moses get this
Commandment? From God. God alone could
give to this Commandment the authority
with which Moses has passed it on to us."
"So you maintain that I, a medical man,
I who believe in materialism . . ."
"I know, you call yourself an atheist."
"I call myself an atheist, and I am one."
"You think you are. But since you fast
on Yam Kippur, I am very sorry to say,
my friend: you believe in God."
*
*
*
No other comment is necessary. Edmon
Fleg dealt with the fellow who is nostalgi
about fasting on Yom Kippur; just as Ma
Nordau found it necessary to expose th
bauch-Juden; and as we must now de
with the self-hatred of one who question
his Jewishness on the basis of a kreplac
anecdote he is yet to relate. In the mea
time the Psalmist's admonition regardin
our undying status persists.
;
II
90