Parashat Vayeishev: Prisoners of Zion

The stage is dark aside from a lone spotlight directed, laser-like, upon the crouching figure sitting on the floor.  He starts to sing slowly and sadly:

“Close every door to me,

Hide all the world from me,

Bar all the windows

And shut out the light...”

We are, of course in ‘Joseph’ territory and the protagonist has just been flung into an Egyptian prison cell having been falsely accused of behaving in an ungentlemanly manner (to say the least) by the evil Mrs Potiphar.

For a moment, before the exuberance of the ‘Go Go Go Joseph’ production number kicks in, we are all there, empathising with the man who reassures us that we ‘Children of Israel are never alone’, wondering if he’s right and whether, granted recent history, we are indeed alone - especially if you’re trapped in a Gazan tunnel.

Indeed, being an imprisoned Jew is not a new phenomenon.  Not in the least.

Earlier this week, I accompanied Year 7 students on a trip to the Tower of London and discovered that Joseph’s experiences were not unique.  In fact, they were a precursor to some very interesting stories which were particularly relevant to this week’s Parasha of Vayeishev which describes Joseph’s sale and transportation to Egypt leading to the infamous ‘Potiphar’ episode.

A charity called ‘Historical Royal Palaces’ was established by the Government in 1989 as an agency that would care for the Tower of London, Hampton Court Palace, Banqueting House, Kensington Palace and Kew Palace.  As part of their mission, they have carried out extensive and comprehensive research projects into the historical aspects of the respective palaces, one of which explored the connection between the Tower and the Medieval Jews that lived in England until the expulsion in 1290.

You can read a brief outline at this link.

As part of their research, they have provided a dataset that you can download from the site.  This is the introduction:

‘Jews first settled in medieval England sometime after the Norman Conquest and remained here until they were forced to convert or go into exile by Edward I in 1290.  During this time, they and their possessions were considered the property of the king, which allowed him to exploit them economically through heavy taxation but also led royal officials to protect them during outbreaks of anti-Jewish violence.

From 1189, we find evidence of a link between the Tower and England’s Jews.  This relationship was eventually formalised in the thirteenth century, with the Constable of the Tower having authority over the Jews of London and even the power to arrest Jews anywhere in the kingdom.  The Tower became a place both of imprisonment and refuge for London’s Jews.  In 1267, during a baronial attack upon the city, many Jews hid in the Tower and were even given a section of the wall to defend.  Eleven years later, 600 Jews were then held prisoner in the same castle that they had helped to protect.’

The rest of the document provides 236 biographical details of every Jewish person or group of Jewish people who were known to have been at the Tower from the time the community arrived in England until the expulsion.  It makes for fascinating reading.

Individuals like Isaac of Norwich, a wealthy moneylender, who ‘In April 1210, was imprisoned at Bristol, along with many other Jews, on the orders of King John.  Their debts and tallies were recorded to determine their wealth for a tallage that was imposed upon them in November.  He was transferred to the Tower in 1213 and was saved from execution by agreeing to a fine of 10,000 marks (£6,666 13s 4d), to be paid at the rate of one mark per day and his grandson, also called Isaac of Norwich, was held at the Tower in 1253.’

‘Vives who along with his wife Bella, Isaac and his wife Anna, Abigail the Jew, and Aaron were all arrested on charges of coin-clipping and stealing clothes.  In March 1230, they were sent by the Sheriff of Shropshire to the Tower of London, and the Constable was ordered to hold them there until the justiciar Stephen de Sedgrave visited London to hear the case.’

‘Dyay who was one of several Jews from Norwich accused of circumcising a Christian boy and attempting to convert him to Judaism.  He was executed by 1241 for his part in the supposed event.’

‘Elias son of Vives was imprisoned in the Tower From November 1234 to November 1235, possibly until 1241.  He too was accused of the same crime as Dyay and although his fate is unknown, it is most probable that he was either executed or died in prison.

Like Joseph before them, the Jews of England experienced mixed fortunes in the Tower. 

One of the most interesting examples revolves around the case of Jurnet, son of Abraham who started off as a prisoner and ended up working at the Tower!  In 1273, he was held at the Tower for a debt of 12 marks he owed the king as well as some other misdemeanours.  He was bailed and granted a royal pardon.  However, he was in trouble again in June 1279 on a charge of taunting and beating a man but this was not proven.  Two years later, there is a single reference to Jurnet being a ‘sergeant of the Tower of London’.  This related to a protracted case brought against him by the Bailiff of Southwark which ended in the latter being imprisoned as a result the ruling in Jurnet’s favour.  It is not known the duties that were assigned to Jurnet but one of them seems to have centred around his responsibility for carrying the bodies of deceased Jewish people through the streets of London to their burial.  He may even have been in situ until 1280, a mere decade before the expulsion.

In a similar vein, the Torah tells us that Joseph was thought of in such a high manner, that the Captain of the Guard assigned him to look after the butler and baker.                                      As they say, “You can’t keep a good man down!”

The experiences of Joseph and the cases I have cited in reference to the Tower, demonstrate how challenging our history has always been.  Many of our most prominent brethren were imprisoned, including the sixth Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneerson and of course refuseniks like Natan Sharansky and Ida Nudel.  Despite the hardships they faced, they refused to abandon their faith and, in many cases, earned the respect of the captors because of their unbending belief in Gd and the Torah.

As Jews we, like all other visitors, are now free to enter and leave the Tower of London without either requiring its protection or living in fear of being imprisoned (and possibly being executed) within its walls.  Sadly, the spectre of Jews being held under false pretences is still with us, as we saw recently in Iran where Arvin Ghahremani, a young Jewish man in his twenties, was executed in a blatantly antisemitic act.  We hope and pray that very soon, another set of ‘prison walls’ will crumble and our brethren will return to their families in Israel.

“For we know we shall find

Our own peace of mind

For we have been promised

A land of our own.”

Shavuah Tov.

Parashat Vayishlach: Syria

 One of my earliest memories takes me back to the evening when my parents and I were watching the small black and white television set in the living room.  The TV and radio were hidden behind a sliding door inside a cabinet that was topped with a record player.  They were all the rage in the Sixties.

It was early October 1973 and what we saw terrified us. 

Perched on the Golan, the IDF were in the early stages of trying to protect the country against the invading Syrians.  I cannot forget the look of fear on my parents’ faces as my mother carried me upstairs to bed. 

These recollections are seared into my memory.  I think it may be the first time I became aware of the precarious and often hostile relationship that has always existed between Syria and Israel.

The surprising turn of events that we’ve been witnessing in the same region this week, with the fall of the cruel Assad dynasty, have brought those thoughts to the forefront of my mind.

But this wasn’t always the case.  Syria’s geographical location also brought home its relevance to the very genesis (pun intended) of our faith.

The ancient city of Charan lay in the vast region of Aram Nahara’im.  It straddled the modern states of Turkey, Syria and Iraq.  It is from there that Avram (as he was then called) was told by Gd, at the start of Parashat Lech Lecha, to travel southwards through Syria into Canaan.

Decades later following the death of his beloved Sarah, he instructed his servant Eliezer to return to the region to find a wife for his son, Yitzchak, which we read about in great detail in Parashat Chayei Sarah.  He dutifully returned with Rivka.

Twenty years later, she gave birth to the twins, Yaakov and Eisav.  At the end of Parashat Toledot, she told the younger twin to escape back to Charan following the deception of his elderly father, to avoid being killed by a furious Eisav.  He did this in Parashat Vayetzei and in this week’s Parasha of Vayishlach, he returned via Syria to meet his brother and his entourage of four-hundred warriors, more than two decades later.

Our ancestors therefore travelled through the area in five of the twelve Parshiot that encompass Sefer Bereshit/Genesis!  It is the cradle in which their relationships are formed and developed.  From Avraham to his daughter-in-law (and great-niece), Rivka through to her own nieces, Rachel and Leah (otherwise known as Avraham’s great-great nieces.)

Rivka, Rachel and Leah were all born in the region of Aram Nahara’im and I would assume that this applied to their maidservants, Zilpah and Bilhah too.  As we know, all four gave birth to the twelve sons whose descendants became the twelve tribes of Israel.

In short, nearly half of Sefer Bereishit takes place in the area that is occupied by Syria and its neighbour to the north, Turkey although it is unclear as to the exact location of Charan (ie whether it was in northern Syria or southern Turkey).

The Golan Heights cover part of the ancient kingdom of Bashan which was ruled by Og.  He was the king who was defeated by the Bnei Yisrael not too long before they started the conquest of the land under Yehoshua.  In other words, Bashan occupied a large chunk of Syria and, according to Devarim 3.13, Joshua 13.29 and Chronicles I v.23, was settled by half of the tribe of Menashe.  Additionally, Chronicles I v.11 states that the tribe of Gad may have also had some territory there.  Alexander Jannaeus, the Hasmonean King of Judea ruled over Bashan from 84 to 81 BCE.  Herod too had dominion there some years later.

All the above serves to remind us of how important a role Syria has played in the history of our nation.  There was an ancient Jewish community in the country dating back to Roman times which once numbered 30,000 souls.  It was a place a refuge following the Spanish Inquisition but nearly all have left following decades of persecution.  As of 2024, it is estimated that only three Jews remain in the entire country (although that number could be 100 if you include those who have assimilated and/or converted.)

Our modern narrative understandably focuses on contemporary issues such as the plight of the refugees, the devastation caused by the civil war and the barbarism perpetrated over half a century by the two Assads (with the enthusiastic assistance of Iran and Hezbollah).  Not forgetting the destruction inflicted on Syria by Isis.  Lost in the mix is the extraordinary history that shaped the country and the cultural importance of ancient cities like Aleppo and Palmyra both of which have been reduced to rubble.

In 1973, I was terrified of what would happen to Israel if Syria was successful in its aims.  Now I despair for the country that has torn itself apart.  Where, sometimes, Jews and Arabs lived together peacefully.  It wasn’t always easy (particularly in the 19^th century at the time of the infamous ‘Damascus Affair’ blood libel) but this is not dissimilar to the way Jews fared in other Arab countries.  The experience of Jewish life in Arab lands has always been bittersweet.

In 2024, we are once again witnessing the sight of IDF soldiers on the Golan.  This time, the news reports are in colour and beamed across a variety of sophisticated media (although I do miss that old record player-tv combo).  As of the time of writing, it doesn’t appear as though there is an attempt to replay the events of October 1973 on the Golan Heights.  However, as we are all too aware, such a scenario did occur in a different October many years later, south-west of the Golan.

I hope that soon we will be able to envisage the rebirth of Syria as a country that respects all the residents of the region, whatever their religious beliefs or ethnic background.  In the days before modern methods of transport, our Biblical ancestors were able to travel freely in both directions unhindered by borders and persecution.  Avraham, Eliezer, Rivka and Yaakov demonstrated this.

The Torah also had its villains and Lavan, the wandering Aramean, was certainly one of them although at the end of last week’s Parasha, he was still willing to make peace with his nephew.  Let’s not forget though, that he then sent his seventeen-year-old son off to warn Eisav that his brother was returning (see Sefer Hayashar, a Midrash).  The region has always had its questionable characters!  I guess that ‘making peace’ means different things to different folks.

Judaism is a religion that never relinquishes the idea of ‘hope’.  Throughout our modern history, we have stood up and sung the Hatikvah irrespective of how bleak the future looked.  We have never lost hope that the situation will improve.  As the old Israeli saying goes – ‘yihiye beseder’ – it will be OK.

I think it’s time to extend that dream to the country where it all began because more than enough blood has been shed in Aram Naharai’m.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to re-establish our ancient connection to that region but without echoes of the past?

Perhaps we’ll make ‘the call’ soon and, who knows, someone at the other end might pick up the receiver.  After all, could anyone have envisaged Jewish life blossoming in Dubai a decade ago?

Shavuah Tov