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