Saturday 16 March 2024

The Good Doctor


 

As some of you might know, I have recently returned from an amazing expedition to Antarctica. The expedition lasted three weeks, an adventure that deserves an article dedicated solely to recounting and sharing that great experience.

Our port of departure on that sunny afternoon on December 31, 2023, was Ushuaia, Argentina, the world’s southernmost city.

As we were making our way to the open horizon over the Pacific Ocean in the festive atmosphere, I decided to go to my cabin and stay there since I celebrate only one new year, the Jewish one. Negotiating one’s way on a new, unfamiliar and anything but a luxuriant vessel can be, as I found out, quite challenging.

At one point, I tripped and hit my head on the stairs. There was no one near me. Fortunately, I did not lose consciousness, but it took me a minute or so to regain my balance. When I got to the cabin, I saw that I was bleeding from a deep cut in my eyelid.

Without any hesitation, I went to reception and asked to see the ship’s doctor. “I am going to be ok,” I kept telling myself as I was about to enter the doctor’s clinic.

Dr. Marvin Armando Gutierrez Lopez, better known as “Dr. Marvin,” and his caring nurse, Lally, were, fortunately, both there.

Naturally, I wanted to learn more about the person in whose hands I was going to put my trust and care. “I am from Guatemala,” he said in response to my question. “And where did you study medicine?” I persisted. “In Cuba,” came the comforting answer.

Let me explain.

As someone who has been to Cuba and has had experience in the health care industry, mainly in the U.S., I had been exposed to the country’s renowned healthcare system. In Cuba healthcare is a basic right and is available, free of charge to all Cubans. The country has been credited with some notable achievements such as increasing life expectancy and eradicating many diseases.

I felt more at ease.

“Do I need to be concerned, doctor?” I carried on with my interrogation.

“Let me ask you,” he responded, noticing my anxiety, “do you feel nauseous, have a headache and experience double vision?”

“No, to all three,” I said, somewhat relieved.

 “Then let me stitch your eyelid and monitor you for at least forty-eight hours to make sure that all is well,” he continued as I was making myself comfortable on the small bed situated in the ship’s clinic.

The following day, I met the expedition’s doctor, a lovely American lady. She had heard from Dr. Marvin about my case and suggested that I have an MRI at the Stanley hospital in the Falkland Islands. That, according to her, would have meant that I must stay there for three days, at least, as the results are interpreted in England.

“Does that mean I will have to miss the rest of the expedition?” I asked as panic spread through my essence.

“I afraid so,” she responded in a serious expression.

“Dr. Marvin, do you agree with the expedition’s doctor?” I asked him when I visited him the following day as he was examining my stiches.

“I don’t think so,” came his calming answer. “You seem to be fine.” His composed and reassuring demeanour infused me with hope. I decided to put my fate in his hands and the hands of his sweet and beautiful nurse, Lally.

From then on, I visited his clinic every day. We had long conversations where he shared with me parts of his life.  He was orphaned from his father at an early age and was obliged to join the labour force to help support his family. Through his mother, who worked in a local hospital as a nurse, he was assigned the task of mopping the hospital’s floors. His mother’s dream was to see him, eventually, become a doctor.

The opportunity to realize his mother’s wish presented itself in 1998. That year, Guatemala was hit by, “Mitch,” a devastating hurricane. Cuba, along with other countries, mounted relief efforts and sent aid along with medical personnel to the affected areas. The devastating results of this natural disaster brought to light the unsettled health care system in the region. In an effort to overcome these discrepancies, Cuba launched its most ambitious international programme, “The Latin American Medical School,” as part of the broader “Comprehensive Health Program.”



Dr. Marvin decided to move to Cuba where, in the course of time, he earned his medical degree.

During my daily visits to the clinic, I also shared with him and his nurse some facts about Yisrael and her achievements and successes, despite the harsh reality we experience here. They welcomed my extended invitation to come and visit my homeland.

Dr. Marvin also shared with me that, at some point, he intends to return to Guatemala, where he would love to continue to practice medicine. He also plans to buy a plot of land, one day, which he hopes to turn into a cocoa plantation and produce chocolate. “In addition to making people’s lives healthier,” he told me with a big smile, “I also want to make them sweeter.”

What an amazing man!

I hope you will all join me in wishing Dr. Marvin the best of luck and every blessing with his future undertakings.

Shavua tov.


Saturday 2 March 2024

The Art of Being Patient

 





                       “The two most powerful warriors are patience and time.” – Leo Tolstoy

 

 One of the most important lessons of this week’s Parasha, Ki Tisa concerns the virtue of patience.

The Parasha recounts the chain of events that follow the compelling and awe-inspiring episode of the giving of the Torah. Thirty-nine days after the ascent of Moshe to Mount Sinai to receive it, the Children of Yisrael, subsequent to time miscalculation, which lead them to believe that he is due to return on that day, become impatient and restless. They turn to Aharon, his brother and demand, “come make us a god who will go before us. As for this man Moses who brought us up out of Egypt, we don’t know what has happened.” (Exodus 32:1)

Naturally, they are bewildered, anxious and frightened that they will have no one to guide them to the land G-d promised Abraham. Though at Mount Sinai, the Children of Yisrael, became a nation, in this respect they still act like little children.  And, as we know, waiting, especially for children, is difficult. The Yisraelites get impatient and impetuously seek to replace G-d and Moshe.

Patience, according to the Torah, is one of the thirteen attributes of Yisrael’s infinite G-d who, thus, can afford to have infinite patience. Can we, however, expect the same of recently freed slaves who are dumbfounded, lost and are unable to take control over their lives?

This is not the first time, it turns out, that the Yisraelites display hastiness and impulsiveness.

The Midrash also addresses the heedless behaviour of our People. According to it, when G-d offered the Torah to other nations first, each of them inquired about its content. When there was no accord between it and their laws, they rejected it. Surprisingly enough, the People of Yisrael immediately responded to G-d's offer by saying, “we shall do, and we shall listen.” There was no use of judgment nor prudence in their acknowledgement, as was the case with the other nations.

As a result of this, the Talmud grants Am Yisrael the title “Ama Pziza” – a hasty Nation (Aramaic).

The Parasha goes on to explain that when Moshe comes down, he is aware of the adulation of the calf. However, only after he approaches the camp and witnesses the celebrations, does he smash the tablets. Was he perhaps hoping that though most of them worship the calf, there is still a small minority, a handful of people who are worthy of receiving the tablets?

Unfortunately, as we see, Am Yisrael’s impatience leads to a sin with calamitous results for generations to come.

Soon after this sordid affair, the Torah tells us that the People are mourning and feel remorse over the matter of the golden calf.  Here, as merely moments earlier, we witness traces of instability which on the one hand allows Am Yisrael to rise to the highest spiritual levels yet at the same time bring it to the brinks of the abyss, Both the results of acting impetuously and without reason or much thought.

Several thousands of years have passed since this catastrophic incident in the history of our Jewish People. We have, since then, matured, advanced, and contributed vastly to the world around us.

But have we become more patient as a Nation?

Not according to rabbi Berel Weil. In an essay entitles “Patience,” he states, “Since we are bidden to emulate the ways of our Creator, it would follow that patience and the ability to wait out a situation of problem should be Jewish virtues of our national character. Alas, they are not. The hasty part of our nature is dominant in all events in the Jewish world. We make snap decisions off-the-cuff agreements and commitments, and often speak when our good sense and brains are not fully in gear. Jewish history,” he concludes, “past and present is witness to the high price that we pay for such hastiness.”

May we learn the lessons of history, take the time to master the art of being patient and tolerant, teach ourselves to weigh our choices wisely and carefully in order to improve ourselves, our Jewish People and the world as a whole.

Shavua tov fellow Jews and a great week to all.

 


Friday 5 January 2024

"Never Again" Is Always

 






     "Never Again is the constant retelling of the Holocaust story."                          Antonio Gueterres, Secretary General of the U.N.


"Never Again" as Guterres suggests has, generally, been associated with the calls by Jews to try and ensure that the atrocities committed against our Jewish people, merely a little over eighty years ago, would be a share of the past.

In recent months, following the horrific attacks against Yisraeli residents by Hamas terrorists, we have been hearing that slogan repeatedly echoed by many. These days, however, the phrase has morphed from "Never Again" to "Never Again is Now."

That, in my view, is unfortunate.

Should this motto of our People be confined strictly to the "here" and "now?" What happens when the "here" and "now" are over? Are we going to wake up to the call only when some other calamity, G-d forbid, befalls our People?

Learning the lessons of our history has been one of the most important tenets of our Jewish faith and tradition.

"Thou shall tell them to your children....,"  "Remember what Amalek did to you..." are but two examples of the directives repeatedly mentioned in our Tanach. "Never Again" is precisely the goal and the intended lessons of these commandments.

The phrase "Never Again" in the context of the Shoah (Holocaust), as quoted above, was first used in a 1961 documentary, "Mein Kampf," by a Swedish filmmaker, Erwin Leiser.
In it, over a shot of Auschwitz, Leiser, a Jewish refugee from Nazi Germany, says, "It must never happen again -never again."

There might be, though, another possible source to this phrase.

In 1926, an Yisraeli poet by the name of Yitzhak Lamdan published a poem entitled "Masada." In one of the poem's passages, where he uses the imagery of th Hora, danced by young Zionists, Landman writes:

                  "Lift your legs,
                   Firm your knees,
                   More and more!
                   In the dance's circling chain
                   Never shall Masada fall again!"

Mount Masada, as those who are familiar with Jewish history, would know, was the last bastion of Jewish fighters against the Romans around 73 C.E.

The heroic story of Masada has become a source of pride to many Yisraelis. "Masada Shall Never Fall Again '' is part of the oath taken by some members of the Yisraeli military who pledge from its mountaintop to defend the Jewish state.

These words became one of the pillars of our Jewish consciousness and the Zionist ethos. Just as these two precepts are part of our Jewish essence past, present and future, so is the slogan "Never Again."

Confining these words to the "here" and "now" diminishes, in my opinion, their vitality and weakens the vow that similar cataclysms to those that happened to our ancestors shall not be repeated.

Restricting "Never Again" to the "here" and "now" might make them, in the words of Rabbi Sacks ZT"L, "sound more like ever again." 

What, then, is a better way to ensure that the sad parts of our Jewish history do not repeat themselves than to pledge "Never Again Is Always" rather than "Never again is Now?"

Shabbat Shalom, fellow Jews and a blessed weekend to all



Sunday 8 October 2023

Sukkot and Pesach -Two Facets of Jewish Epistemology

 

    




Pesach represents the love of G-d for his people. Sukkot represents the love of the people                                                                               for G-d." - Rabbi Jonathan Sacks ZT"L

  

Many years ago, I was watching an episode of “The People’s Court” with the late Judge Wapner. It was about a lawsuit presented by a person who lived on Malibu beach. His issue was with his Jewish neighbour who decided to erect a “hut,” during this time of year. The “hut,” he claimed, blocked his view of the ocean.

In his ruling, Judge Wapner gave the defendant one week to remove the “hut.” Everyone was satisfied with his decision.

Naturally, being Jewish, Judge Wapner knew the reason for erecting the “hut.” He knew that the suspicious “hut” is called a “Sukkah.” Having been raised in an orthodox home, he was aware of the commandment calling upon us, Jews, “Speak to the people of Israel, On the fifteenth day of this seventh month and for seven days is the Feast of Booths (Sukkot) to the Lord.” (Vayikra-Leviticus 23:34).

Now that we know the commandment, let us take it one step further and provide the reason for celebrating the Holy Day. The answer is provided in Vayikra 23:43,

“So your descendants will know that I had the Israelites live in temporary thatched huts when I brought them out of Egypt. I am the Lord your G-d.”

Clearly, Sukkot, just like Pesach, commemorates the Exodus from Egypt. As the Torah tells us, throughout the wanderings in the desert, Am Yisrael was living in huts or sukkot.

Some believe that since both Pesach and Sukkot commemorate the same event, the Exodus from Egypt, they should be celebrated at the same time.  After all, it could be much more pleasant to have a Seder outdoors, in the Sukkah, during Springtime when Pesach occurs, than in the Fall when Sukkot takes place.

The question as to why Sukkot is observed separately and why it was set to take place at this time of year, Fall, engaged many Jewish scholars.

Rabbi Yaakov ben Asher, also known as “Baal Haturim,” explains that during the spring and summertime, many people tend to sit under an awning or in a shade to protect themselves against the rays of the sun. Had we built Sukkot during Pesach, we would not have been able to discern as to whether we sit there for the sole purpose of performing a Mitzvah or merely for our own pleasure. However, when the rain starts and people generally seek cover in the comforts of their homes, we elect to go out and sit in the Sukkah to demonstrate that we perform G-d’s commandment.

The Vilna Gaon offers another explanation. He believes that that Sukkot is the time when the clouds of reverence returned to wrap Am Yisrael after they were removed subsequent to the sin of the Golden Calf.  The Gaon asserts that soon after his descent from Mount Sinai, Moshe decreed the building of the Mishkan. Upon commencement of its construction, there was reconciliation between G-d and Am Yisrael and the clouds returned. The Holy Day of Sukkot was solemnized to commemorate that moment in our history.

In my opinion, there is an educational component in separating Pesach and Sukkot on the Hebrew calendar. As mentioned above, a golden thread runs through these Holy Days. On both, Torah charges that we should stress the importance of teaching our children and our future generations the significance of freedom from the house of bondage. On Pesach, we are commanded, “And you shall tell your son in that day,” (Shemot, Exodus 13:8-9). A similar decree, as we saw above, is given regarding Sukkot, “So your descendants will know…” A lesson of such immense prominence needs to be reinforced and repeated lest we forget it.  Spacing its review every seven months, which is the span of time between the two Holy Days, is one way to ensure its absorption and retention.  

 The late Rabbi Sacks, quoting Rabbi Akiva, offers yet another explanation as to why Sukkot is celebrated in the Harvest time. According to him, the answer lies in the prophecy of Jeremiah who states,

“Israel is holy to G-d,

The first fruit of His harvest.” (Jeremiah2:2)

Just as during Sukkot,  “the Israelites celebrated their harvest,” states Sacks, “so G-d celebrates His – a people who, whatever else their failings, have stayed loyal to heaven’s call for longer, and through a more arduous set of journeys, than any other people on earth.”

Hoping and praying for better days.

Am Yisrael Chai 💖


Tuesday 26 September 2023

Yom Kippur and Yisraeli Democracy

 





Yom Kippur is the holiest day on the Jewish calendar. I doubt that many will disagree.

For me, Yom Kippur bears a unique significance for a few reasons. It was a tradition in my family ever since I can remember. Its reverence vibrates in every part of my essence. In addition to its piety among our Jewish Holy Days, Yom Kippur also bears poignant sadness as it brings to the surface memories of the Yom Kippur war and its painful losses.

The observance of this sacred day is commanded in the Torah, in Vayikra (Leviticus 23:28-320: “You shall not perform any work on that very day…. and you shall afflict yourselves.” Furthermore, G-d warns that any disobedience will be followed by severe punishment and any person “who will not be afflicted on that very day, shall be cut off from its people. And any person who performs any work on that day, I will destroy that person from amidst its people.”

This, a few millennia old, directive, sounds appaling and scary, does it not? What a menacing scenario - the embodiment of theocratic dictatorship, so it seems.

The inevitable and eminent enforcement of that commandment is what some have tried to warn us against for close to a year. Yisrael, they keep parroting, is going to turn into a replica of Iran, G-d forbid.

Not quite.

On the Eve of Yom Kippur, as I was making my way to services in a nearby makeshift synagogue, dressed in white and immersed in the cloak of holiness, I watched my many fellow Yisraelis who were flocking the traffic free streets. While some were, like me, observing that commandment, others were playing with their children who were riding their bikes, some of which were electrical and enjoying themselves. A few were busy texting or speaking on their mobile telephones. Some were wearing shorts and dressed casually. I even noticed one or two drinking water out of plastic bottles. As I walked past them, I wished them “Chatima Tova,” the traditional greeting on that day. They responded in kind.

Having been warned, repeatedly, that religious dictatorship was upon us, I was surprised to see that none of the “disobedient” souls were scolded, stoned, or destroyed. My hawk eyes were searching for the secret “dress code police” ready to arrest the culprits. Alas, to no avail.

What I did sense, though, is what the late Rabbi Jonathan Sacks termed as “The Dignity of Difference.”

As I approached the place of worship, I noticed many other folks entering it. They were young, they were old. They were dressed in the customary white attire while others were wearing torn jeans. Some women even entered it with their bare arms and shoulders exposed.

No one stopped them. No one scolded them. No one denied them entry, and no one sent them back home to change their garments. Surprisingly enough, even here the “theocratic dress police” was nowhere to be found.

“The Dignity of Difference,” was welcoming all who sought to pray indiscriminately.

Upon entering the room, as I always do, I seek a place in the women’s section (generally front row) and make myself comfortable. I personally prefer separate sections for men and women. Is it because of habit? Perhaps. Whatever the reason, I love it.

Before anyone jumps at me on that point, let me interject and add that separate seating for men and women is not the only setting available in Yisrael. A childhood friend of mine who wishes to sit next to her partner during prayer, elects to attend a reform synagogue. We continue to respect each other and accept our respective choices. Each to their own.

Indeed, there are those of us who continue to practice “The Dignity of Difference.”

Some parts of the service also include chanting. As a former singer, it is perfect for me. From what I know, some religious sectors bar women from joining in the invocation. They base it on Halachah. It is their choice and a difference that needs to be dignified. Exclusion of women is what a few elements in Yisrael have been warning and threatening us against. As I was singing, I stealthily checked around the hall in search for hints of the covert secret “religious police” lest its representatives come and arrest me for practicing my freedom of chanting.

Instead, “The Dignity of Difference” was smiling at me from every corner.

What did, however, catch my attention, admittedly for the first time, even though I have attended Yom Kippur services for many years, is one line, part of “Kol Nidrei,” a prayer which ushers in Yom Kippur. “Kol Nidrei” (All Vows) which is recited in Aramaic nullifies the binding nature of promises and vows in advance. They are declared invalid. All vows “are absolved, remitted, cancelled, declared null and void.” The line that struck me and sent shivers through my body is the one offering forgiveness to the entire congregation of am Yisrael and EQUALLY “to the stranger/foreigner who resides amongst them.”

Now, you tell me, dear readers, if that is not the epitome of “The Dignity of Difference.”

“The Dignity of Difference” amid members of any nation as well as towards the strangers amongst them is one of the most important pillars of any democracy. It is part of the Jewish D.N.A and is evident in almost every aspect that characterizes the modern-day State of Yisrael, the National Home of the Jewish People. Yom Kippur is but one example.

It is noteworthy to mention that the group which sets up these makeshift synagogues is “Herzliya Torah Center” (Garin Torani) headed by Tsachi Weiss. Tzachi and his team have been doing it for several years thus making participation in the High Holy Days accessible to all who wish to partake in them. The service is conducted by residents of Judea and Samaria who leave their homes and families during this special time of year to bestow upon us the blessing of the experience.

And what an experience it has been.

Chatima Tova to you, fellow Jews and Am Yisrael and a wonderful year to all.

 

 


Friday 16 June 2023

Yisrael is not only a Jewish State, first and foremost, it is also Democratic

 



The Jewish tradition carries very powerful democratic genes.” – Fania Oz-Salzberger

As many here are probably aware, the state of Yisrael is currently undergoing some turbulent times. Part of the public debate that has been raging surrounds the question of whether Yisrael, the National Home of the Jewish People, should give up its Jewish essence to maintain its democratic core.

We hear repeated calls to make the state “Jewish and Democratic.”

And that, dear readers, is precisely what Yisrael is and has been since its inception.

I doubt that there is anyone who would ever not associate Yisrael with Jews. Surprisingly enough, the Jewish substance of the state was decreed by gentiles, not Jews.  Lord Balfour, for instance, was one. In his famous Declaration of November 2, 1917, called for the establishment of a “National Home for the Jewish People” in Eretz Yisrael which, in those days was, also known as “Palestine.”

Then came the San Remo Accord where The Supreme Council of the Allied Powers, which acted as an International Court of Law echoed his call, in article 22 of the “Covenant of the League of Nations” of April 25th , 1920. That resolution has been anchored in International Law.

The final stamp of approval for what was to become a Jewish state was U.N. Resolution 181 of November 29th, 1947. It called for the partition of Eretz Yisrael into an Arab state A  N  D  a Jewish state. Yisrael is the name of Jewish state. It has been a Jewish state and will continue to remain that way, de Jure (by law/right) and de Facto (in effect).

The language of Yisrael’s Declaration of Independence which, I trust, was carefully crafted, reinforces, and repeatedly mentions that what lies at the heart of the nascent state is its Jewish essence. Already in its first paragraph, the Declaration mentions the “eternal Book of Books,” our Tanach, our code of ethics that teaches us the values of justice, equality, and freedom which we shared with the world.

These values were constantly preached by our prophets. They are the guidelines that have dictated the objectives of the newly established State, as mentioned in the Declaration “…it will foster the development of the country for the benefit of all its inhabitants, it will be based on freedom, justice and peace as envisaged by the prophets of Israel.”

What are those values? What was the ultimate message of the “Book of Books” and the “Prophets of Israel?”

The decree to equality, do justice and ensure freedom runs like a golden thread throughout the Tanach, the “Book of Books.”

The concepts of justice and equality are stressed already in the Book of Bresheet (Genesis 18:18-19) where G-d proclaims “…. Since Abraham is to become a great and populous nation and all the nations of the earth will be blessed through him. For I have signaled him out that he may instruct his children and his posterity to keep the way of the Lord by doing tzedakah and mishpat (justice and law) …..”

“Justice, justice you shall pursue,” commands us the Book of D’varim (Deuteronomy 17:20). It is one of the cardinal obligations of Judaism. In the Torah portion of Shoftim (judges), we are commanded to “Appoint judges and officials for” our “tribes…. and they shall govern the people with due justice. You shall not judge unfairly,” we are told (Deuteronomy 16:18). “The Hebrew Bible,” claims Rabbi Dr. Bradley Shavit Artson, “possesses a passion for justice for the poor, the weak and the despised…. We betray a broad heritage of the Torah,” he continues, “when we fail to recognize justice and righteousness as primary religious categories of Judaism.”

The Tanach focuses on the weak and oppressed by referring recurrently to the “orphan, widow and foreigner” for a reason. A human society is measured by its attitudes towards the powerless. The care and the compassion that the “Book of Books,” the Torah and then the prophets display towards the under privileged of society is probably one of the reasons it has been translated into every possible language. The constant appeal to the advantaged members of society to feed the hungry and the disadvantaged is an appeal to one’s conscience and is justified as either a religious obligation (“I am G-d” Psalm 46:10), a historical rationale (“For you were strangers in Egypt” Deuteronomy 10:19), as carrying an eventual reward (“your days may be prolonged” Deuteronomy 5:16)or, sometimes, a social one (“So they may rest as you” Deuteronomy 5:14).

All these prove that Judaism and the principles of Democracy go hand in hand.

The word “democratic” is not mentioned in Yisrael’s Declaration of Independence. However, the social and “democratic gene” which manifests itself in the values of the “Book of Books” as its basis, the moral values of liberty, justice, and freedom, the pillars of any democracy, which the Declaration espouses were the guiding principles for the founders of the State.

One of the goals of the newly established state, as the Declaration states is to “Ensure complete equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants irrespective of religion, race or sex: It will guarantee freedom of religion, conscience, language, education, and culture; it will safeguard the Holy Places of all religions; and it will be faithful to the principles of the Charter of the United Nations.” The Declaration further appeals to “the Arab inhabitants of the State of Israel to preserve peace and participate in the upbuilding of the State on the basis of full and equal citizenship and due representation in all its provisional and permanent institution.”

The mere fact that such noble social and economic principles coupled with the ongoing quest for justice and the continuous deliberations over the best form of government which are sewn all over the Tanach, the "eternal Book of Books" formed the basis for Yisrael's Declaration of Independence, points to the undeniable fact that democracy is part of the DNA of the Jewish State. 

Saltzberg further asserts that in modern Yisrael today, "anyone pretending that Judaism and democracy are incompatible traditions and that Yisraeli "society must decide between the two is showing a certain measure of historical ignorance. Not only," she claims, "are Jewish and democratic elements of its statehood compatible, but they have been influencing one another for well over 2,000 years."



Monday 24 April 2023

A Little Known Part of the Shoah

 



The following is an English translation of a Face Book post of Mr. Haim Taib. It was written a few hours before he, along with his family, partook in the “March of the Living” in Auschwitz' last week.

 

“In a few hours, I will have the privilege to participate in the “March of the Living” in Auschwitz and light, for the first time, a memorial torch in commemoration of the glorious Tunisian Jewish community which was conquered by the Nazis and suffered anti-semitic persecution, forced labour and hunger.

As a third generation to Tunisian Shoah survivors, I will lead he march, while carrying in my heart my grandfather, Haim Taib, after whom I am named, who was sent along with thousands of Jewish men, to forced labour camps and came back skin and bones, beaten and bruised.

Tunisia was conquered by the Nazis in November 1942.

The German launched a policy aimed at destroying Jewish life. Community institutions were closed, many Jews were fired from work, children were kicked out of schools, heavy fines were applied, private properties were confiscated and about 5000 men were forcefully enlisted to construction camps and fortifications.

My father, who was merely five years old at that time, would recall painfully how the German soldiers, dressed in ironed, grey uniforms, burst into the house, crushed personal items with their boots and confiscated his father’s radio and his mother’s sewing machine.

My grandfather, Haim and Zion, my grandmother’s brother, were taken to forced labour camps.

The following months filled the family with fear and concern. The German soldiers frequented Jewish homes in search of healthy and able men.  Sirens were wailing, shells were fired, and explosions heard daily. Roaming the streets ceased, windows were covered with dark fabrics and blackness befell the city, in an effort to defend against bombing of the allies which were directed at the anti-aircraft posts which the Germans deliberately scattered in civil neighbourhoods.

Four months later, Haim and Zion suddenly appeared at home. They were thin and bruised, their clothes torn, their faces unshaven and their hair messy and lice ridden. My grandmother, Koka, burst into tears of joy. She gave them food and boiled water so that they could shower and clean themselves. My grandfather recounted that he was sent to a deserted field, not far away. There the Germans ordered him to construct a forced labour camp. They were able to escape since in the last weeks, the German security loosened and under the blanket of one of the Allies bombings, he and his friends were able to escape from the camp.

On Friday, May 7th, 1943, my father woke up to the sounds of joy. “The war is over!” shouted my grandfather and everyone ran out of the house still wearing their pajamas. The streets were buzzing with people, music, and dancing. Seven months of siege, bombing and suffering had come to an end.

Only two years later, when the family members were exposed to the horror movies which the Nazis had filmed in Auschwitz, were thy exposed to the horrible truth regarding the unfathomable size and cruelty of the Nazi plan for the Jews of Tunisia, Algiers, Libya, Morocco, and Egypt

Almost eighty years have passed since that dark era in history, and here we are, living in a Jewish and Democratic state that promises all of its citizens and pledges that the horrors of the Shoah will never be repeated.

Today, I shall march in the “March of the Living” and will light a memorial torch to commemorate the Jewish communities of Tunisia and North Africa who had they not been freed when they were, would have suffered the same fate as European Jewry.

I invite all of you to join me, here on my Face Book page to the live stream of the “March of the Living” and the ceremony of torch lighting starting at 14:00 on this link: https://fb.me/e/10M9dcDWd

My parents, Eliyahu and Janet Taib, of blessed memory, who were children at that time, tell of their memories from the Nazi conquest of Tunisia. Please watch the video

Here is the link to the Face Book post:

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid02m3zwpw8gv9C7o9FLWTGWGiXz4WANXiU2mMdcf8b5XjQQYivpH12LvwYGVNLAiYQQl&id=100062202317825&mibextid=Nif5oz