Parashat Vayeishev (Shabbat Chanukah): Are We Here Yet?

 In 2012, Stephnie and I had not managed to secure tickets for the Olympics in the various ballots and this was the next best thing. We wanted to visit the Olympic Village and tried to obtain tickets for the Paralympics. We were successful and on 9^th September, watched Iran beat Brazil 5-0. There were 11,597 of us in attendance, witnessing two seven-a-side teams comprised up of blind footballers kicking around a football into which a bell-like instrument had been inserted. It was a strange experience to say the least and to date, the only football match I have attended. Had I been to Wembley, the largest capacity football stadium in the UK, for a Cup Final, I might have known what it would feel like to be surrounded by 89,999 other spectators.

This is my way of describing how extraordinary it felt to be a participant in the March Against Antisemitism in London a few weeks ago. According to the Campaign Against Antisemitism, who derived their figures from sources which included their volunteers, the CST and Police, I was one of approximately 105,000 attendees. Wembley, eat your heart out!

I can honestly state that I have never seen so many people at any event I've ever attended. We were all gathered there, Jews and Non-Jews for a number of reasons - one of which being to demonstrate that, after being re-admitted to this country 367 years ago, in the words of David Baddiel (which I apologise for deliberately misquoting), Jews Do Count. Our presence as loyal, hard-working, and dedicated citizens of the United Kingdom (hopefully)sent out the clear message to our fellow islanders that our voices needed to be heard and that those who wished to threaten and intimidate us would not be successful.

This week's Parasha begins with the following verse:

 

Yaakov settled where his father had lived as a stranger, in the land of Canaan. (37.1)

The Torah does not state the number of years Jacob lived in Canaan between the time he arrived and the sale of Joseph. Using Rashi's calculations (based on Megillah 17a), we can work out that he would have been living in the country for around a decade. During this time, he witnessed the tragic death of his beloved wife Rachel, the rape of his daughter Dinah and the violent retribution enacted upon the citizens of Shechem by her brothers, Shimon and Levy. These had not been easy years for the elderly patriarch.

Now, at this juncture in his life, he was finally 'settled'. The Midrash (Bereishit Rabbah quoted by Rashi) even interprets the word ‘Vayeishev – and he settled’ to mean that Yaakov wanted to live in peace but then the episode with Joseph ‘pounced upon him’. He adds humorously that Gd said “it is not enough for the righteous to obtain that what is prepared for them in the world to come, they also want to partake of this in this world too!”

Yaakov believed that, after a lifetime of tribulation, he had found the peace he longed for. Working backwards from his death in Egypt at the age of 147, we can estimate that he was 108 years old (factoring in the 22 years he was apart from Joseph and the last 17 years of his life.) He hoped to spend his golden years surrounded by his family, enjoying the time he had left in the company of his children, grandchildren and perhaps great-grandchildren. As we know, this was not to be.

Yaakov’s hopes of living in peace are encapsulated in the single word that begins this week’s Parasha and by which it is known. These are dashed within the space of a few verses. ‘Vayeishev’ is ironically focussed on one of the most unsettling episodes that formed the origin of our nation, namely the sale of one brother by most of his many siblings.

How many of our ancestors could truly claim to be settled in any one location for a significant amount of time without having to either flee or live under duress by a cruel tyrant or inhospitable neighbours? The last century saw us running for our lives, quite literally, from one country to another. We thought we were safe from Nazi Germany when we settled in France or Holland in the 1930s…until 10^th May 1940 when Germany invaded those countries as well as Belgium and Luxembourg.

We settled in Spain until the Inquisition drove us out. We settled in Iraq, Iran, Syria, Yemen and Egypt until we were forced to leave after the creation of the State of Israel. Even England which welcomed us in 1066, expelled us just over two centuries later.

These were some of the thoughts that occupied my mind as I walked slowly through the streets of London amongst others who might have been on my wavelength. Like Yaakov, we believed that the worst was behind us and mostly sunny days lay in front.

That the existence of the State of Israel would convince us that ‘never again’ really meant ‘never again’ in terms of feeling secure as Jews in an enlightened Britain. The one which had accepted our presence for over three-and-a-half centuries.

Surely, if Yaakov ‘settled’ where his father had been a stranger and felt this after a mere decade, how could we, his descendants who have resided here uninterrupted by war for so long, feel any different?

On Friday night, we lit the second candle on our Chanukiot. We are celebrating a festival that marks events that took place so very long ago. We know how the Maccabees defeated the Seleucids and in doing so, resulted in our being able to reclaim our country and re-dedicate our Temple.

For the next 140 years, we were able to remain settled in the land until the destruction of the Beit Hamikdash in 70 CE. For a fleeting moment, in the winter of 164 BCE, like Yaakov and his descendants, they believed that brighter days lay ahead.

Granted the examples I have cited; it is easy to become despondent and wonder, in all honesty, if we can ever truly be settled, for history has shown us the result of our complacency. Which is why I want to end by returning to the march and the belief it gave me that things can be different this time around.

105,000 people felt it important enough to come out from every corner of the British Isles on a cold and rainy day in November to show solidarity both within and beyond the Jewish Community.

105,000 people were so disturbed by the ugly and disturbing scenes they witnessed on the same streets of London for over a month, that we voted ‘with our feet’ and attended this gathering which required a thoudsand police and countless security personnel to keep us safe.

105,000 people marched through London to demonstrate the fact that we will not be cowered by those who seek to deny us our legitimacy as Jews and for many present, proud Zionists.

We were there because like Yaakov, we believed that we are ‘settled in a land where our ancestors had once lived as foreigners’ and despite the events that may, Gd forbid impact us in the future, we will continue to play our part of citizens of this country, just as we have done in the last 367 years. If we choose to make Aliyah, this will be on our terms and not because we have been driven out of the United Kingdom’.

The same hope which Yaakov exhibited in believing that things could only improve inspired the Maccabees to fight an enemy that was greater in number and more powerful in weaponry. In turn, this drives the IDF to defeat an evil enemy who can call on many friends throughout the world to fight on its behalf.

And it is why 105,000 people chose to walk through the streets of our capital to remind the many who try to delegitimise our small nation that though they may outnumber us, we will never succumb to their threats, bullying and intimidation.

I may not have attended a Cup Final at Wembley, but for a few hours on Sunday, 26^th November 2023, I was standing amongst champions.

Am Yisrael Chai.

Shavuah Tov and Chanukah Sameach.