My brother's keeper

This expresses what I thought every time I saw those blue fingers. It reminds me a little of the story of Qayin (קין) and Hevel (הבל) - Cain and Abel.

וַיֹּאמֶר קַיִן אֶל הֶבֶל אָחִיו
וַיְהִי בִּהְיוֹתָם בַּשָּׂדֶה
וַיָּקָם קַיִן אֶל הֶבֶל אָחִיו וַיַּהַרְגֵהוּ
וַיֹּאמֶר ה' אֶל קַיִן
אֵי הֶבֶל אָחִיךָ
וַיֹּאמֶר לֹא יָדַעְתִּי
 הֲשֹׁמֵר אָחִי אָנֹכִי

Vayomer qayin el hevel ahiv
Vayhi bihyotam basade
Vayaqam qayin el hevel ahiv vayahargehu
Vayomer H' el qayin
Ey hevel ahikha
Vayomer lo' yada`ti
Hashomer ahi anokhi

And Cain spoke to Abel his brother
When they were in the field
And Cain rose up against his brother and killed him
And the Lord said to Cain,
"Where is Abel your brother?"
And he said, "I don't know,
Am I my brother's keeper?"

Genesis 4:8-9

We are all our brothers' keepers. When the Iraqis went out and voted, they were keeping their country.

When Cain is punished, he complains:

הֵן גֵּרַשְׁתָּ אֹתִי הַיּוֹם מֵעַל פְּנֵי הָאֲדָמָה
וּמִפָּנֶיךָ אֶסָּתֵר
וְהָיִיתִי נָע וָנָד בָּאָרֶץ
וְהָיָה כָל מֹצְאִי יַהַרְגֵנִי
וַיֹּאמֶר לוֹ ה'
לָכֵן כָּל הֹרֵג קַיִן שִׁבְעָתַיִם יֻקָּם
וַיָּשֶׂם ה' לְקַיִן אוֹת
לְבִלְתִּי הַכּוֹת אֹתוֹ כָּל מֹצְאוֹ

Hen gerashta oti hayom me`al p'ney ha'adama
Umipaneykha esater
V'hayiti na` vanad ba'ares
V'haya kol mos'i yahargeni
Vayomer lo H'
Lakhen kol horeg qayin shiv`atayim yuqam
Vayasem l'qayin ot
L'vilti hakot oto kol mos'o

Thus you have expelled me today from the face of the earth
And from your face I will be hidden
And I will be a roamer and a wanderer of the earth
And anyone who finds me will kill me
And the Lord said to him,
"Therefore anyone who kills Cain will be punished sevenfold"
And the Lord put on Cain a mark
So that nobody who finds him will hurt him

Genesis 4:14-15

The mark of Cain is usually thought of something bad, but actually it was given to him in order to protect him. Like those blue fingers...

ADDENDUM: The ha- in hashomer ahi anokhi (am I my brother's keeper) is not the ha- which means 'the'. This ha- has a different vowel, and it introduces a question. It is a short form of the word ha'im (האם).

Speaking of marks of Cain

Mark Steyn (via Hatshepsut):

According to a poll by the University of Bielefeld, 62 per cent of Germans are "sick of all the harping on about German crimes against the Jews" - which is an unusually robust formulation for a multiple-choice questionnaire, but at least has the advantage of leaving us in no confusion as to how things stand in this week of pan European Holocaust "harping on". The old joke - that the Germans will never forgive the Jews for Auschwitz - gets truer every week.

I have some sympathy for that 62 per cent. Killing six million people is a moral stain on one's nation that surely ought to endure more than a couple of generations. But, on the other hand, almost everything else about the Germany of 60 years ago is gone - its great power status, its military machine, its aggressive nationalism, its need for lebens-raum. The past is another country, but rarely as foreign as the Third Reich. Why should Holocaust guilt be the only enforced link with an otherwise discarded heritage?

"Enforced" is the operative word. If most Germans don't feel guilty about the Holocaust, there's no point pretending they do. And that's the problem with all this week's Shoah business: it's largely a charade. The European establishment that has scheduled such lavish anniversary observances for this Thursday presides over a citizenry that, even if one discounts the synagogue-arsonists and cemetery-desecrators multiplying across the Continent, is either antipathetic to Jews, or "sick of all the harping on", or regards solemn Holocaust remembrance as a useful card to have in the hand of the slyer, suppler forms of anti-Semitism to which Europe is now prone.

From time to time, the late Diana Mosley used to tell me how "clever" she thought the Jews were. If you pressed her to expand on the remark, it usually meant how clever they were in always keeping "the thing" - the Holocaust, as she could never quite bring herself to say - in the public eye, unlike the millions killed in the name of Communism. This is a fair point, though not one most people are willing to entertain from a pal of Hitler. But "the thing" seems most useful these days to non-Jews as a means of demonstrating that the Israelis are new Nazis and the Palestinians their Jews. Iqbal Sacranie, secretary-general of the Muslim Council of Britain, has told the Home Secretary that his crowd will be boycotting Thursday's commemorations because it is racist and excludes any commemoration of the "holocaust" and "ongoing genocide" in Palestine.

Ah, well. He's just some canny Muslim opportunist, can't blame the chap for trying it on. But look at how my colleagues at The Spectator chose to mark the anniversary. They ran a reminiscence by Anthony Lipmann, the Anglican son of an Auschwitz survivor, which contained the following sentence: "When on 27 January I take my mother's arm - tattoo number A-25466 - I will think not just of the crematoria and the cattle trucks but of Darfur, Rwanda, Zimbabwe, Jenin, Fallujah."

Jenin? Would that be the notorious 2002 "Jenin massacre"? There was no such thing, as I pointed out in this space at the time, when Robert Fisk and the rest of Fleet Street's gullible sob-sisters were going around weepin' an' a-wailin' about Palestinian mass graves and Israeli war crimes. Twenty-three Israelis were killed in fighting at the Jenin camp. Fifty-two Palestinians died, according to the Israelis. According to Arafat's official investigators, it was 56 Palestinians. Even if one accepts the higher figure, that means every single deceased Palestinian could have his own mass grave and there'd still be room to inter the collected works of Robert Fisk. Yet, despite the fact that the Jenin massacre is an obvious hallucination of Fleet Street's Palestine groupies, its rise to historical fact is unstoppable. To Lipmann, those 52-56 dead Palestinians weigh in the scales of history as heavy as six million Jews. And what's Fallujah doing bringing up the rear in his catalogue of horrors? In rounding up a few hundred head-hackers, the Yanks perpetrated another Auschwitz?

Comment:

I think it's fine for a young German, that is, somebody who didn't personally participate in WW2 not to feel personally responsible for the holocaust. But the fact that not only do the 62% (at least) not feel the obvious moral stain on the nation (in other words "don't care"), but show that their anti-semitic feelings still haven't left them (even after they practically erased the Jewish population), by expressing their extremely negative attitude towards the state of Israel. I may be sounding harsh and bitter here, but I don't think these people have changed all that much.

Posted by: Hatshepsut at February 2, 2005 01:29 PM Permalink

Comment:

It is obvious to me that this sudden piousness about the Holocaust on its 60th anniversary (what did they do on the 50th?) comes about as an alternative to doing something substantial.

Posted by: David Boxenhorn at February 2, 2005 01:39 PM Permalink

The Pianist

Some time ago my wife bought the video of The Pianist. It's been sitting on the shelf since then, and somehow we were never able to make time to see it. We just saw it tonight.

I don't see many movies these days, and when I do I'm not in the mood for a Holocaust movie - I've never seen Schindler's List, for example. But I'm glad I saw this one. I'm not sure how I feel about it, though. It's definitely a good movie on its own terms, but a Holocaust movie is never judged simply on its own terms, but on how well it illuminates its subject matter.

The Pianist is the story of Wladyslaw Szpilman, a Polish-Jewish pianist. He survives the war by avoiding the death camps - the story of many survivors. Unfortunately, if you come expecting a broader point of view, you won't get it in this movie unless you are already very familiar with the subject matter, and can see it operating in the background. On top of this, Szpilman is a very passive character throughout most of the movie. He spends a lot of time hiding, which is not unrealistic for those who managed to survive. (At one point he is hiding in a small apartment with a piano, which he cannot play for fear of being found. There's a very beautiful scene based on his predicament.)

Roman Polansky describes why he made the film:

This book describes the events I remember from my childhood. For many years I've been planning to make a film about this period, but I couldn't find the right material. Szpilman's book isn't just another chapter in the book of martyrdom we all know. In his memoirs, he describes these events from the point of view of a man who experienced them. The book was written shortly after the war and maybe this is why it is so fresh, unlike the accounts written later, 20-30 years after the war. Reading the first few chapters, I knew it was going to be my next film.

You know, many times I read things that I could more or less make a movie on that subject, but they were usually too close to my own personal experiences of the war. I didn't want that. Here, however, we are dealing with the Warsaw Ghetto - I was in the Krakow Ghetto. I could use my own experiences in the script without making it an autobiography. It was easy for me to work on this script because I remember that period all too well.

Adrien Brody describes playing Szpilman:

When I found I had gotten the role I had already discussed with Roman that I would need to lose a lot of weight...

When I arrived in Europe, I went on a diet where I lost 30 pounds in six weeks. I'm 6 foot 1 and I was 130 pounds. That was very difficult, but what it did was that it provided me into an insight of deprivation I had never experienced. The cravings end up going beyond hunger and open your thought processes into being more receptive to loss and emptiness. One thing we take for granted is sugar, caffeine and carbohydrates. All these things give us something to get through our boredom, our tiredness. When you omit them for a long period of time, there is a metamorphosis that takes place and you feel very different.

It forced me to conserve all energy unless I was doing something productive. It kills your motivation for other things. You have to be strong enough to make it through a long workday. Since we shot the film in reverse order, the first day I showed up on set I had to be the most destroyed. When I am climbing over the wall and seeing Warsaw's devastation, which they recreated, my reaction is real. I told Roman that I don't have any energy. He said "What do you need energy for? Just do it." I had to just climb over the wall and I could hardly do it. Essentially, I'm not acting and perhaps that's what Roman wanted.

The one thing the film is missing is a depiction of the destruction Szpilman returned to after the war. There are plenty of destroyed buildings in the movie, but no depiction of the human destruction, and specifically the destruction of the Jews. Warsaw was one third Jewish at the start of the war. At the end of the war there were twenty Jews left in the city - one of them was Szpilman. There were three million Jews in Poland before the war, after the war only about 100,000 remained. Szpilman lost his entire family in the war. Yet, the movie depicts him returning victorious to his musical career. Yes, we see his sadness, but not a sense of emptiness at what remained.

Comment:

I also wrote about watching this films a few months back. Like you I hardly ever watch a film. This one if exceptionally good.

Posted by: Hatshepsut at February 4, 2005 01:03 AM Permalink

Comment:

I don't understand how he could just keep living in Poland though. I just can't..

Posted by: Hatshepsut at February 4, 2005 01:06 AM Permalink

Comment:

David, you make a really interesting point about the film missing the depiction of what was left, or rather not left, after the war. I saw the film and this never occurred to me.

For the record, my mother is a survivor of the Warsaw Ghetto. She survived in hiding and was not in the camps.

My father also survived in hiding under different circumstances. He once said the hardest thing about the war was not surviving it (hard as that was), but once it was over, to find out the extent of the destruction and that the hope that he had during the war of being reunited with his family could not be fulfilled, because they were all dead. That is when depression *really* set in for a lot of survivors.

60 years later the war is not over for *me*. Because of that devastation.

I'm with Hatshepsut. I just don't understand how he could continue to live in Poland, or why he would have wanted to.

Posted by: miki at February 4, 2005 03:43 AM Permalink

Comment:

It was quite an accomoplishment for Roman Polansky, considering all he has been through.

Posted by: muse at February 5, 2005 06:17 PM Permalink

Comment:

As I recall, the film was appropriately and effectively claustrophobic and catastrophic - with the feeling of impending doom and horror closing in. I think it was very well done in that respect. Compare and contrast to Life is Beautiful, which the more I think about, the less I like, especially the more I encounter the phenomenon of Holocaust-Denial Lite - Holocaust Minimization - which that latter film feeds.

Posted by: Solomon at February 5, 2005 06:31 PM Permalink

Comment:

I saw this movie a while back. At the time, an old friend from high school asked me how I felt about it. I told her I thought the movie was pretty good, but the ending offended me. Why, she asked, somewhat surprised. The fact that the protagonist remained in Poland bothered me greatly. Fine, he avoided the death camps, and yes, he had help from sympathetic Poles. But there were pogroms in Poland AFTER the Holocaust was over! The fact that he remained, despite the pogroms, well, I found it incredibly offensive and disgusting. I thought that, of all the possible material available, Polanski had to pick this questionable character?! Her reaction? She had never heard of the post-Holocaust pogroms, which I wasn't surprised about, since I too had never heard of them growing up. After getting over her initial shock of this bit of under-publicized history, she did her own research and understood why I didn't like the movie.

Posted by: Scott Weisman at February 8, 2005 01:11 AM Permalink

Comment:

I, too, don't understand how Szpilman could stay in Poland after the war, but I don't think that it diminishes the power of the story.

For any movie (or any story, for that matter) to work, its events have to validate its conclusion. In this case, the events which were so well depicted would validate the conclusion: "I am victorious, but what is the meaning of my victory when my world is destroyed?" This is an important conclusion, for it is one that every Holocaust survivor must feel. The only way that I can see to work in the post-Holocaust pogrom is to end in its midst, the conclusion would then be: "it could happen again." Personally, I prefer the first conclusion. Trying to get both together wouldn't work story-wise, in my opinion it would then be a weak movie, which would defeat the purpose of making a good movie about the Holocaust that people would want to see.

Posted by: David Boxenhorn at February 8, 2005 10:17 AM Permalink

Comment:

The comment above referred to the ending that I would have liked to see. As it is, the movie has what I think is a very weak conclusion: "I am victorious, but I'm sad."

Posted by: David Boxenhorn at February 8, 2005 10:21 AM Permalink

In The Beginning

John Ray comments on the opening line of the Bible - how should it be translated? I thought I would contribute one thing that Rashi has to say about it (for more go here). Rashi is the foremost and most normative of Jewish biblical scholars, he lived in the 11th century.

ולא בא המקרא להורות סדר הבריאה
לומר שאלו קדמו
שאם בא להורות כך היה לו לכתוב
בראשונה ברא את השמים
שאין לך ראשית במקרא שאינו דבוק לתיבה שלאחריו
כמו בראשית ממלכת יהויקים
ראשית ממלכתו
ראשית דגנך
אף כאן אתה אומר בראשית ברא אלהים את השמים
כמו בראשית ברוא
 ודומה לו תחלת דבר ה' בהושע
כלומר תחלת דבורו של הקב"ה בהושע
ויאמר ה' אל הושע

V'lo' ba' hamiqra' l'horot seder habri'a
Lomar she'elu qadmu
She'im ba' l'horot kakh haya lo likhtov
Barishona bara' et hashamayim
She'eyn l'kha reshit b'miqra' she'eyno davuq l'teyva shel'akharav
K'mo b'reshit mamlekhet y'hoyaqim
Reshit mamlakhto
Reshit d'ganekha
Af kan ata omer b'reshit bara' elohim et hashamayim
K'mo b'reshit b'ro'
V'dome lo t'hilat d'var H' b'hoshea`
K'lomar t'hilat diburo shel haqadosh barukh hu b'hoshea`
Vayomer H' el hoshea`

And the Bible doesn't mean to show the order of creation
To say that these preceded [those]
For if it meant to show this it would have been written thus:
In the beginning (barishona) He created the heavens
For you don't have 'reshit' (beginning-) in the Bible that is not attached to the word after it
As in: At the beginning (b'reshit) of the kingdom of Hosea
The beginning (reshit) of his kingdom
The beginning (reshit) of your grain
Thus here you say: At the beginning of God's creation of the heavens
As in: At the beginning of the creation (b'ro')
And similar to it: The beginning of God's speaking to Hosea
That is to say: The beginning of the speaking of the Holy one Blessed be He to Hosea
The Lord said to Hosea

Rashi, B'reshit 1:1

The first word of the Bible is: b'reshit. The: b' is usually translated into English as 'in', 'at', or 'with', depending on the context. Reshit is in a form that can only appear as the first part of a compound word, meaning: "beginning of". Therefore, Rashi wants to translate the first verse of the Bible as: At the beginning of God's creation of the heavens and the earth. The only problem with this is the second word of the verse: bara'. As far as I know, this word is never used as a noun, only as a verb: (he) created. Rashi says that we should understand bara' as if it were written: b'ro' - which would be the expected form of the word.

Note also that Rashi says explicitly that these words are not meant to show the order of creation. Follow the link above for more evidence, and more of his reasoning on the matter. (Unfortunately, I can't find an online source for the original Hebrew.)

UPDATE: Amritas links. I probably should have mentioned that Rashi is not only the foremost and most normative Jewish biblical scholar, he is also the foremost and most normative Talmudic scholar. These two are very closely related: to be a Jewish biblical scholar, you have to take into account Jewish tradition and the precedents set by previous Rabbis - all of which is recorded in the Talmud. And of course, the Talmud is a commentary on the Bible. Related posts: here, here, and here.

Comment:

You can play with the letters of the word, bereishit. The first three, bet resh alef, spells bara, created,
then resh, alef, shin = head
alef shin = fire

--have fun!

Posted by: muse at February 5, 2005 06:14 PM Permalink

Translating in the beginning

Amritas posts:

I think John Ray and David Boxenhorn (who's updated his post on the opening line of Genesis) would be interested in what reader Ian M. Slater had to say about "Br'shyt".

I can't speak for John, but Amritas is certainly right about me! Here's an exerpt:

The Septuagint seems to have read the unvocalized Hebrew text as ba-reshith, "in the beginning," and ignored any problem with the construction with the following verb. And so most Christian translations, up to the present, and, following them, the 1917 Jewish Publication Society version. The New Revised Standard Version is an interesting exception.

Rashi, as noted in the link, explained that the Masoretic (official traditional) vocalization as be-reshith avoided the problem of the verb, and interpreted it as indicating only "at the time when..." This has its own problems, but, coincidentally or not, corresponds rather nicely to the opening of Mesopotamian creation narratives, like Enuma Elish (When above) and Enuma Anu Enlil (When Anu (and) Enlil [created the stars and planets]). This understanding is used, in one or another variation, in a number of recent Jewish translations. (When in doubt, a conjunction of Rashi's authority and Assyriological precedents is a good defense against attacks from almost any direction! )

The New Jewish Publication Society version (originally 1960) has "When God began to create." Everett Fox (1983, 1995) has "At the beginning of God's creating of the heavens and the earth." The New Revised Standard Version (1989) offers "In the beginning, when God created," with "When God began to create" and "In the beginning God created" as alternatives in fine print.

The Targum (Jewish Aramaic translation) actually seems to have dodged the grammatical issue entirely, offering bkdm (sorry, I don't remember the vocalization), "in the past." (Or, I think, by etymology, "in the east," but any geographical reference is excluded by context!) This could be translated, rather roughly, "A long time ago, God created...."

Here's the Targum of Genesis 1:1 - b'reshit is translated b'qadmin (בְּקַדְמִין). I might add Ian is referring to Targum Onqelos (תרגום אונקלוס) - the word 'targum' means simply 'translation'. Targum Onqelos is an ancient translation of the Bible into Aramaic, circa 1-300 CE. At one time it was read in the synagogue alongside the original Hebrew. In most communities the practice died out when the Hebrew became more readily understandable than the Aramaic, but Yemenite Jews preserve this tradition: the ba`al qore' (בעל קורא) - 'master of the reading' - reads a line from the Tora (תורה) - the first five books of the Bible, then a child reads the translation in the Targum.

Another thing: I've been doing a fair amount of translation since I started this blog, and I want to point out that this is not a typical translation problem. In this case, it really is unclear how the text should be read. More typically, it is perfectly clear how a text should be read, but it is impossible to translate it precisely, concisely, and fluently, into the target language. As a result, you are forced to choose between the possibilities. On this blog, I have also given myself another goal: to translate in a way that will help readers understand the original Hebrew - I therefore also want to maintain as much as possible the original structure of the text, so readers can figure out which word goes with which (are there any readers who do that?). Also, I don't want to spend more than a few seconds on each line. Put these goals together and you get compromises everywhere - not to mention mistakes (I almost always find mistakes in my transcriptions when I go back and read them, since I don't have a spell checker to help me out). I apologize for my sloppy translations and transcriptions!

So, what is going on here? Clearly there is something strange about the text: Either you accept b'reshit as 'In the beginning' without a following noun, or accept bara' as a noun, neither of which have any corroborating evidence. A big part of the problem is the limitation of the historical record: the fact that we have no evidence of a certain usage does not mean that it didn't occur, only that it wasn't recorded. So it is certainly possible that one of these exceptional usages did occur. If I had to bet, I would go with Rashi - not just because of his credentials, but because it conforms better to my instincts. I suspect that part of the problem is that the opening of the Bible was as famous in ancient times as it is now, and therefore preserves either archaic features, or features of a different dialect, that are not preserved in most of the Bible. There are clear instances of this occurring in other places, for example in the cohanic blessing.

Trackback from Soccer Dad, Havei Havalim Edition #9:

Jewish Super Heroes Fred Lapides, a former co-poster at Israpundit now has his own site Israelpundit where he introduces us to some new Jewish Superheroes. Though the characters he created were not necessarily Jewish, Stan Lee definitely is. He talked...

Comment:

So, what is going on here? Clearly there is something strange about the text: Either you accept b'reshit as 'In the beginning' without a following noun, or accept bara' as a noun, neither of which have any corroborating evidence.

That is, if you're looking for the "correct" literal translation of the text. There is another possibility, though, one particularly attractive to a religious believer: That this text was never meant to have a single, definitive "correct" translation.

In the spirit of both the rabbinical exegetical tradition and modern deconstructionist theories, one can certainly posit that this text, referring to the ineffable event of Creation, is a deliberate composition of internally-inconsistent grammatical forms to render impossible the determination of its precise meaning. All the variant readings exist simultaneously, even in the realm of "pshat" - simple translation.

Some language, like some events, cannot be reduced to simple explanations.

Posted by: Zman Biur at February 13, 2005 11:37 AM Permalink

Hebrew and Aramaic

In the previous post I linked to Targum Onqelos. This gives me a good excuse to blog about the similarity between the two languages, something I've wanted to do for a long time. Hebrew and Aramaic are very closely related, so much that Hebrew speakers who study the Talmud (which is mostly written in Aramaic) are expected to jump in with no formal language training. For the most part, they are expected to pick up Aramaic as they go along. Let's compare a passage from the Bible with its Aramaic translation from Onqelos. Here's the Hebrew:

וּלְכָל חַיַּת הָאָרֶץ וּלְכָל עוֹף הַשָּׁמַיִם
 וּלְכֹל רוֹמֵשׂ עַל הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר בּוֹ נֶפֶשׁ חַיָּה
אֶת כָּל יֶרֶק עֵשֶׂב לְאָכְלָה
וַיְהִי כֵן

Ul'khol hayat ha'ares ul'khol `of hashamayim
Ul'khol romes `al ha'ares asher bo nefesh haya
Et kol yereq `esev l'okhla
Vayhi khen

And for all animals of the land and for all birds of the heavens
And for all things that crawl on the earth that have a living soul
[I have given] All herb greens for eating
And it was thus

Genesis 1:30

Here's the Aramaic translation:

וּלְכָל חַיַּת אַרְעָא וּלְכָל עוֹפָא דִּשְׁמַיָּא
 וּלְכֹל דְּרָחֵישׁ עַל אַרְעָא דְּבֵיהּ נַפְשָׁא חַיְתָא
יָת כָּל יָרוֹק עִסְבָּא לְמֵיכַל
וַהֲוָה כֵין

Ul'khol hayat ar`a ul'khol `ofa dishmaya
Ul'khol d'raheysh `al ar`a d'veyh nafsha hayta
Yat kol yaroq `isba limeykhal
Vahava kheyn

Now, let's compare them. The following is a chart of all the morphemes in both the Hebrew and the Aramaic, in order of appearance in the Hebrew. (Repeats not included.) For Semitic roots I'll use the conventions of this chart.

I think it should be clear from this just how similar the two languages are. Notice that there is only one content word in which the two languages use words from different roots: romes/raheysh. However, even in this case, the root used in Aramaic is also found in Hebrew as a synonym of romes (the word in Hebrew is rohesh).

Comment:

I studied talmud at a modern Orthodox day school.

I found your page only a few days ago, as a result of the Israeli blog awards.

Your translations and explanations mean so much to me in such a short time. Your page is now a daily priority check for me.

No one seems to comment on these translations/explanations of yours, so I just wanted to say, they are wonderful. "Best of the net" in my book.

Posted by: miki (female) at February 7, 2005 10:35 AM Permalink

Comment:

Thanks for the comparison. I was baffled when I tried reading the Aramaic part of the Book of Daniel. It seem far less like Hebrew than I expected, probably due to the fact that I knew less about both languages at that time. Your mention of the Onqelos made me wonder, is there a Hebrew translation of the Aramaic part of Daniel? Since then, I dabbled in several textbooks for Aramaic and Syriac (Syrian Christian dialect of Aramaic) to figure out which ones were worth getting my own copies of. Their Aramaic seemed much more like Hebrew than my blurred recollection of Aramaic Daniel. Several years ago I took a look at a targum, probably an addition of the Onqelos. It had a different system for marking vowels. The marks weren't dots or lines like in Hebrew, they looked like little forked twigs over the consonants. I found a reference book which explained them. They are much simpler than Hebrew vowel marks. From my sketchy notes, I think the other form of vowel marks was called Babylonian pointing.

Posted by: Bryan Ashcroft at February 10, 2005 06:45 AM Permalink

Jewish / Israeli Blog Awards - Finals

The final voting round for the Jewish / Israeli Blog Awards has come! You can vote for all categories at once here.

Rishon Rishon has been nominated for the following categories:

Best Overall Blog

Best New Blog 2004
Best Jewish Religion Blog
Best Jewish Culture Blog
Best Post by a Jewish Blogger (Maladapted to our Habitat)
Best Series by a Jewish Blogger (Valleys)

Oddly enough, judging from the results of the semifinals, Rishon Rishon has the best chance of winning in the Best Jewish Religion category! So, if you have energy to vote only for one category (and you think I deserve it) vote there. If you have energy for just two, then add Best New Blog. Otherwise, vote for them all!

Since the real purpose of this contest, at least in my opinion, is not to win, but to publicize good blogs, I want to encourage all of you to visit them. Here they are:

Trackback from Soccer Dad, Good sport:

While many fellow bloggers who are up for the JIB awards are selfishly promoting themselves for an award, ( like me or here, here, here, here, here for example. But vote for me!) Rishon-Rishon understands that this isn't about winning...

Comment:

why isn't chakira on this list?

Posted by: yossi at February 9, 2005 03:27 PM Permalink

Comment:

Yossi: The list is simply copied from Israellycool.

Posted by: David Boxenhorn at February 9, 2005 09:06 PM Permalink

Comment:

chakira should totally have been on this list. In any case... it'll soon be over. Baruch hashem... this has not been fun.

Posted by: ck at February 13, 2005 04:01 AM Permalink

Comment:

http://www.HelpMeBubby.com

Our Grandmother. Your Questions. Her Advice.

Posted by: the granddaughters at March 19, 2005 07:22 PM Permalink

Latest Comments and Trackbacks

I've added a latest comments and trackbacks feature to the left column (of the main page only, not the archive pages). So if you are a regular visitor, you can now keep up with the latest activity on this blog more easily. I've also started closing comments on old posts - the vast majority of comments on old posts are spam anyway.

Left for Tyranny

Pixy Misa wrote these words the day before Iraq voted. I missed them at the time, but, well, better late than never:

Let's review the situation from the point of view of a sane person:

The Taliban was bad. They oppressed women, supported terrorism, and gave sanctuary to Osama bin Laden (who is also bad). Plus they blew up those giant Buddha statues.

President Bush got rid of them, and now Afghanistan is a democracy - with women not only voting but getting elected. This is good.

Saddam Hussein was bad. He ruled Iraq as a tyrant, ruthlessly crushing any opposition. He had people pulled off the streets to be tortured or murdered on his slightest whim; he employed men to rape his female prisoners. He also had appalling taste in art.

President Bush got rid of him, and tomorrow the Iraqis go to the polls to elect their new government. This is good.

So thanks to President Bush and America, and their allies Britain and Australia (and quite a few other countries), 50 million people are now free.

But, says the left, but, this is actually a bad thing because he is not an idealist. Without that idealism, he is forced to take on the world as it actually is, so his bringing freedom to 50 million people in Afghanistan and Iraq counts for nothing.

The logic of this position is difficult to untangle, but this is how it looks to me:

Axiom: America bad.
Axiom: Conservatives bad.

Postulate: Anything done by bad people is necessarily also bad.

Therefore: If President Bush speaks in idealistic terms, he must be lying.
If he frees entire countries from tyranny, it must be from base motives, and he deserves only scorn.
If people in the government support him, they are only in it for money and power.
If voters support him, they are stupid.

Against the strident opposition of the Left, America has fought two wars of liberation since 2001. The only contribution of the Left to this effort has been negative: to slow things down, to make every effort more difficult, to give hope to insurgents and terrorists.

There was a time when the Left stood for some good things, like fighting for freedom, equality, and caring about the world. Now only the right stands for those things.

Comment:

I originally started this with:
Quick points, because I shouldn't be reading blogs right now.

But I think this is better:
Warning: Longwinded and Freehand (so not-so-organized) comment below. (The [strike] tags didn't work.)

If Plony sees a guy running down the street, and doesn't like his mug, so he just clotheslines the guy and starts beating on him. Then around the corner come running the police, chasing this murdering bank-robbin' low-life. And hey, look, Plony's captured him! So you might think Plony's a good guy.

Except we know (we are omniscient within hypotheticals) that Plony's a liar, and a bad person.

So here we are. In anticipation of the war, W didn't say *anything* about how evil Saddam was to his people. W (and the US as a whole, really, and that reflects badly on the Left as well as the Right) didn't really raise much of a ruckus as Saddam was raping and torturing and killing and excercising his bad taste in art.

W sold the war on mostly on one premise and a little on a second. Double-you Emm Dees was the big one, and a tie-in to 9/11 came a little later. That's it. Go read the speeches, look at the P/R. You can, creatively, go back and read "general evil-ness and oppression" into some of what he said, but overall, not really.

And that makes sense. Because the Right as well as the Left is -- and correctly so -- leary of sending US troops to defend interests that are not US interests. There is a US interest in having less evil-ness generally, etc., but it's not at all clear that merely stopping the badness of Saddam would have been enough to get us in there.

Significantly, there have been and continue to be worse evil-ness going on in all sorts of places about which we did and are doing little or nothing, places where intervention would be less difficult and expensive. (I'm remembering Burundi, Rwanda, like that.)

But then, W's got a problem. No WMD's. Even his own people have come clean to the fact that they ain't there.

(Oh, they were moved??? Why don't we go follow them, then. Because our current political interests prevent us from following them into Syria or Saudi Arabia. But if they're so evil... Hmmm.)

And the 9/11 link is and has been pretty weak. Saddam wasn't real big on giving the religious extermists a lot of power because he knew that he wasn't high on their hit parade of favorite friends either. Even giving credence to the intelligence that's come out -- which I refuse to believe is as shoddy as it seems, and I can't help but think was influenced -- Osama had closer ties to Bush than to Saddam.

So, W solves his problem by pointing to the Evil-ness of Saddam, and people go along with it. That's the part that gets Liberals on the "voting for him is stupid" rant. I'm not that into politics and I remember this stuff; how can someone who follows it closely not remember.

Even though Plony stomped on a baddie, Plony himself was a dirtbag; he just got lucky in picking the right victim.

So too here. W's proclaimed interests had nothing to do with Saddam being evil. W's proclaimed interests were WMD and 9/11, which have been shown less than entirely valid.

So, EITHER he was duped by underlings who had an agenda, in which case he's a dolt and people shouldn't have voted for him, OR he was INTENTIONALLY misleading the citizens of this great nation, leveradging the fear and trauma of 9/11 in a successful bid to convince them to spend precious funds and priceless blood in the pursuit of a duplicitous agenda which is still unclear, in which case people shouldn't have voted for him.

Only other option is that he, and all of the underlings that spouted the same party line to the UN, to the press, to the leaders of other nations, believed the "shoddy" intelligence. But that would only be possible if he had silenced or eliminated any voices that might have pointed out the obvious weaknesses in the intelligence provided. In which case he's a terrible leader and at the same time a bit slow. And again, people shouldn't have voted for him.

Except for the outliers (who are, admittedly, loud, but that's true on both sides of the Red/Blue divide), the Left STILL stands for freedom, equality, and caring about the world. But freedom has to be shown by and seen in the liberator before it can be properly spread. Equality is an equality of opportunity, not of circumstance, such that if another sovreign nation freely chooses a system different from ours, we should recognize that choice and leave them with it, as opposed to assuming that ours is absolutely the best system for everyone.

Assume, for a moment, that President Bush really was incensed by the bad-ness of Saddam, and only lied to us in order to get us involved there so as to end Saddam's reign. EVEN if that was the case -- and here is where my personal distrust of the man comes into play, because I don't think it was -- EVEN if that was the case, though, what he did in misleading and threatening the US public was STILL the wrong thing. If he couldn't have convinced us (Left AND Right) to "do the right thing," then he would have to face the reality of who we are in this country.

I have strongly held political opinions that fall opposite those of the overwhelming majority of my neighbors, and the not-quite-as-overwhelming-but-still-valid majority of my countrymen. At this point, though, my best option is to understand that I live in a very Red part of a pretty Red county (in a vaguely Blue state) in a big Red country. I want policy XYZ, and I will pontificate and attempt to convince those around me about it. But if the political will ain't there, I can't just make up emergencies and foist my will upon my neighbors. How much moreso when the foist-EEs are not my peers but my wards, when they have given me the reins of leadership and when all concerned admit that I have better information than they?

No one wakes up in the morning and thinks, "Hey, I'd like to oppose freedom, equality, and caring." But the Right... or at least W... is willing to stoop to unfortunate levels to achieve those ends.

--FrumDad
[Google Wangle: Orthodox Jewish Father]

Posted by: FrumDad at February 11, 2005 12:30 AM Permalink

Comment:

Thanks frumdad, very good answer.

Unfortunately it will probably be dismissed as too "nuanced."

Some might even call you a "flip-flopper."

But thanks for making the effort.

Posted by: Steve at February 11, 2005 04:23 AM Permalink

Comment:

FrumDad and Steve: Thanks for dropping by. I'm glad to have some readers from the left side of the arena.

FrumDad:

In anticipation of the war, W didn't say *anything* about how evil Saddam was to his people.

This is what we call, in the sciences, sampling error: There is far too much data out there to use all of it in our analysis, so we must "sample" it, and assume that our sample is representative. Evidently, your sample is derived from biased sources, like the New York Times and CBS (which is still unrepentant about presenting fraudulent data as news). I was there too, and I heard Bush and members of his administration talking about many things other than WMD. The emphasis on WMD was solely an artifact of the perceived need to make a legal case before the UN, and that legal case hinged on WMD - kind of like getting a Mafia boss on tax evasion. The bottom line is that Bush was not "intentionally misleading" Americans: the left-wing media was.

To your credit you didn't mention it, but while I'm here, I must address the accusation that since no WMD were found, then Bush is a liar. This is, well, a lie. I was there: the whole world (even the loony left and Frence) thought that Saddam had WMD. Everything he did led to that conclusion, and we know that at least a one time he had WMD: he used them on the Kurds. What happened to the WMD is still a mystery. The best explanation I've heard is that the evidence for WMD was deliberatly fabricated by Saddam's underlings to fool their boss, and had the additional result of fooling the rest of the world as well. Kind of a wacky theory, in my opinion, but when you eliminate the impossible, all you have left is the improbable.

Your story about Plony (for listeners-in: Plony is the Talmudic version of John Doe - his full name is Ploni Almoni - Almoni means anonymous in Hebrew) is something of a shaggy dog story. Kind of reminds me of that joke which starts: suppose you're a bus driver, then goes on with all sorts of details, and ends: What's the name of the bus driver? It's a nice story, with a hypothetical meaning, but you are forgetting that you are not omniscient, and you don't know that Bush is evil. You have to judge him by is actions. I, for one, think he's a good man trying to do the right thing. Of course he has made mistakes, the only person who hasn't made mistakes is the person who hasn't done anything. Who's your favorite Democratic president? FDR? Kennedy? Are you going to claim that they didn't make any mistakes? I, for one, think that Bush has not made very many mistakes (going to the UN might have been one of them) and does a good job of learning from them when he does. And his claim that the root cause of terrorism is lack of democracy is spot-on in my opinion. What's decietful about that?

You do have a point that Iraq was not the only evil country in the world, nor the only country that supports terrorism. The answer to that is that you have to choose your battles. Choosing to confront those countries that are both evil and threaten the US sounds like a good start to me. For my take on the War Against Terrorism go here.

Posted by: David Boxenhorn at February 11, 2005 10:46 AM Permalink

Comment:

Interesting points. I agree this debate is way too subjective,each one bringing (and remembering)only what best fits his own opinion.As an outsider, though (I am not and have never been a US citizen) I must admit I don't understand that kind of basic "gut hatred" for Republican presidents. It just reminds me something else I don't understand and it's the "guts hatred" for the US around the whole world when anybody wanting a better life is doing everything to get there.Funny thing,the US is very bad,please give me a green card! ;-)
Oh well,was just pointed to this blog by my girlfriend and couldn't resist putting my mark on it... Just the way cats do... ;-)

Posted by: Gandalf at February 28, 2005 09:31 AM Permalink

How many God?

John Ray has been exploring the concept of the trinity lately. I'm not going to go near that subject. The Jewish position is clear: There is one God, indivisible (with liberty and justice for all - couldn't resist). However, in the course of his discussions he raises some questions, about a couple of verses from the Bible. Let's take a look at them.

The first question is about the following passage:

 וַיֹּאמֶר אֱלֹהִים נַעֲשֶׂה אָדָם בְּצַלְמֵנוּ כִּדְמוּתֵנוּ

Vayomer elohim na`ase adam b'salmenu kidmutenu

And God said, let us make Man (Adam) in our image as our likeness

Genesis 1:26

What do you mean 'us' kemosabe?

John points out that the usual word for God in Hebrew, which is used here, has a plural form, so this could account for the plural. It cannot: Though the word has a plural form, it is grammatically singular - that is, it takes singular verbs and adjectives. We see that here: "elohim" looks plural (it ends with -im) but its verb (vayomer) is singular (the plural of vayomer is vayomru). John also raises the possibility that we might be seeing here a "royal" or "polite we". Hebrew doesn't have either. But I have a rule for anyone learning a foreign language: expect the unexpected! The traditional pronunciation of the tetragrammaton (the name of God) means "My Lords" not "My Lord". Why? I don't know, however, this too is grammatically singular (i.e. it takes singular verbs and adjectives). So, a grammatical explanation doesn't work.

Rashi, of course, addresses the question:

נעשה אדם
אע"פ שלא סייעוהו ביצירתו ויש מקום למינים לרדות
לא נמנע הכתוב מללמד דרך ארץ ומדת ענוה
 שיהא הגדול נמלך ונוטל רשות מן הקטן
 ואם כתב אעשה אדם לא למדנו שהיה מדבר עם בית דינו
 אלא עם עצמו
ותשובתו כתובה בצדו ויברא את האדם ולא כתיב ויבראו

Na`ase adam
Af `al pi shelo' siy`uhu bisirato v'yesh maqom l'minim lirdot
Lo' nimna` hakatuv mil'lamed derekh eres umidat `anava
Shey'he hagadol nimlakh v'notel r'shut min haqatan
V'im katav a`ase adam lo' lamadnu shehaya m'daber `im beyt dino
Ela' `im `asmo
Utshuvato k'tuva b'sido vayivra' et ha'adam v'lo' k'tiv vayivr'u

"Let us make Man (Adam)"
Even though they didn't help Him and it gives an opportunity for heretics to win arguments
The text does not refrain from teaching good manners and the attribute of humility
That the greater one is ruled and derives his authority from the lesser one
And if it had been written: "I will make Man" we would not have learned that one should talk with his court
But with himself
And the answer [to the heretics] is written next to it: "And He created the man (the Adam)" - and it is not written: "they created"

It is a continual theme within Judaism that we should strive to be Godly, therefore it is not a stretch to believe that God shows by his actions how mankind should behave. In fact, God often does things in the Bible that would seem to deny His omnipotence (see Genesis 18:23). And it is certainly curious, to one who might claim that there are many gods, that the very next verse returns, as Rashi points out, to the singular. In case you are wondering, here it is:

 וַיִּבְרָא אֱלֹהִים אֶת הָאָדָם בְּצַלְמוֹ בְּצֶלֶם אֱלֹהִים בָּרָא אֹתוֹ זָכָר וּנְקֵבָה בָּרָא אֹתָם

Vayivra' elohim et ha'adam b'salmo b'selem elohim bara' oto zakhar unqeva bara' otam

And God created the man (the Adam) in His image, in the image of God He created him, male and female He created them

Genesis 1:27

John's second question concerns this verse (see here for my conventions on writing the name of God):

שְׁמַע יִשְׂרָאֵל  ה' אֱלֹהֵינוּ ה' אֶחָד

Sh'ma` yisra'el H' eloheynu H' ehad

Hear, Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is one

Deuteronomy 6:4

Rashi doesn't address John's question: whether ehad should be translated as "one" or "only" - probably because it didn't occur to him that it would be a question. Ehad means "one" under normal circumstances, it seems a stretch to translate it as "only". In fact, the only reason I can think that you would want to translate it as "only" is if you thought to yourself: "Of course God is one! Therefore the verse must be saying something else..."

UPDATE: Amritas comments. He has an explanation for Genesis 1:26 that I hadn't thought of (which incidentally supports John's thesis):

The unexpected is often what I call diachronic* detritus: a remnant of something that had been expected in an earlier state of the language but seems inexplicable in later stages. In this particular case, I suspect that prehistoric Hebrew might have had a exalted plural that was later reinterpreted as a singular before Genesis (or any other extant text) was written.

The English word data is currently undergoing plural to singular reinterpretation: some say data are but others say data is.

The Bible was an oral tradition before it was written down, so something like this may well have happened. For those who are disturbed by the theological implications of this, if true, there is an halakhic expression: hatora lo' bashamayim hi (התורה לא בשמים היא) - the Tora is not in heaven. I'll try to explain more in a later post, but I'll give away the answer here: Judaism is a traditional religion, i.e. a religion that sanctifies tradition. You cannot overthrow the accepted tradition by appeals to a supposedly more authentic past: The fact that world Jewry has accepted a particular interpretation of halakha (Jewish Law) is viewed as its sanctification by God. But don't think this is a license to reinterpret halakha! Tradition is stable only because each generation endeavors to preserve it.

UPDATE: Maimonides (1135-1204), arguably the greatest post-Talmudic Rabbi, has this to say about Deuteronomy 6:4:

The Second Foundation [of the 13 principles of faith (י"ג עיקרים) - DB] is the unity of HaShem [God], Blessed be His Name. In other words, to believe that this being, which is the cause of all, is one. This does not mean one as in one of a pair nor one like a species (which encompasses many individuals) nor one as in one object that is made up of many elements nor as a single simple object which is infinitely divisible. Rather, He, HaShem Blessed be His Name, is a unity unlike any other possible unity.

This second foundation is referred to when [the Torah] says, "Hear Israel! HaShem is our God, HaShem is one". (Devarim [Deuteronomy] 6:4)

UPDATE: John Ray responds.

Comment:

I have always thought of the plural as being a tool for reminding everyone of our equality, we are no less nor better than others.

Posted by: Jack at February 10, 2005 08:50 AM Permalink

Comment:

I just figured the "let us make" was God talking to the Earth. This fit in with Adam being made from dirt: God was tell the Earth that they should work together to make man.

Mind you, this is the interpretation I came up with back in elementary school, so it's not exactly a great profundity. But I still like my reading of it!

Posted by: Daniel at February 10, 2005 10:43 AM Permalink

Comment:

This is a side point, but I'd like to point out Christianity too is a traditional religion. I took a quick look at Steve Ray's site, and although he himself is an atheist, he appears to be making the very Protestant assumption that Scripture is the only source of Christian truth. Both Catholicism and Orthodoxy take Sacred Tradition as a main source of religious truth and guidance for the interpretation of Scripture.

I am really interested in hearing what it means that the Torah is not in heaven!

Posted by: Atlantic at February 10, 2005 09:19 PM Permalink

Comment:

Ray seems to be strawmanning the doctrine of the Trinity, too. Trinitarians agree that God is one (homoousia), so most of the verses he advances to "refute" Trinitarianism are irrelevent.

"The Torah is not in heaven" reminds me of something I used to hear when church politics were getting rough (as they're prone to do): "The church is a carnal institution." Or maybe I'm guessing about "the Torah is not in heaven" wrongly; I'll have to wait and see. :-D

Posted by: Daniel at February 10, 2005 09:34 PM Permalink

Not in Heaven

This is the promised follow-up to the previous post. There is an halakhic expression: hatora lo' bashamayim hi (התורה לא בשמים היא) - the Tora is not in heaven. It comes from the following passage of the Talmud. (Since the quote is much too long for my usual triplicate format, I will just quote the translation from here. I have highlighted some key words to help those who want to go back and forth.)

השיב רבי אליעזר כל תשובות שבעולם ולא קיבלו הימנו אמר להם אם הלכה כמותי חרוב זה יוכיח נעקר חרוב ממקומו מאה אמה ואמרי לה ארבע מאות אמה אמרו לו אין מביאין ראיה מן החרוב חזר ואמר להם אם הלכה כמותי אמת המים יוכיחו חזרו אמת המים לאחוריהם אמרו לו אין מביאין ראיה מאמת המים חזר ואמר להם אם הלכה כמותי כותלי בית המדרש יוכיחו הטו כותלי בית המדרש ליפול גער בהם רבי יהושע אמר להם אם תלמידי חכמים מנצחים זה את זה בהלכה אתם מה טיבכם לא נפלו מפני כבודו של רבי יהושע ולא זקפו מפני כבודו של רבי אליעזר ועדיין מטין ועומדין חזר ואמר להם אם הלכה כמותי מן השמים יוכיחו יצאתה בת קול ואמרה מה לכם אצל רבי אליעזר שהלכה כמותו בכל מקום עמד רבי יהושע על רגליו ואמר לא בשמים היא מאי לא בשמים היא אמר רבי ירמיה שכבר נתנה תורה מהר סיני אין אנו משגיחין בבת קול שכבר כתבת בהר סיני בתורה אחרי רבים להטות

אשכחיה רבי נתן לאליהו אמר ליה מאי עביד קודשא בריך הוא בההיא שעתא אמר ליה קא חייך ואמר נצחוני בני נצחוני בני

On that day R. Eliezer brought forward every imaginable argument, but they did not accept them. Said he to them: 'If the halachah agrees with me, let this carob-tree prove it!' Thereupon the carob-tree was torn a hundred cubits out of its place — others affirm, four hundred cubits. 'No proof can be brought from a carob-tree,' they retorted. Again he said to them: 'If the halachah agrees with me, let the stream of water prove it!' Whereupon the stream of water flowed backwards — 'No proof can be brought from a stream of water,' they rejoined. Again he urged: 'If the halachah agrees with me, let the walls of the schoolhouse prove it,' whereupon the walls inclined to fall. But R. Joshua rebuked them, saying: 'When scholars are engaged in a halachic dispute, what have ye to interfere?' Hence they did not fall, in honour of R. Joshua, nor did they resume the upright, in honour of R. Eliezer; and they are still standing thus inclined. Again he said to them: 'If the halachah agrees with me, let it be proved from Heaven!' Whereupon a Heavenly Voice cried out: 'Why do ye dispute with R. Eliezer, seeing that in all matters the halachah agrees with him!' But R. Joshua arose and exclaimed: 'It is not in heaven.' What did he mean by this? — Said R. Jeremiah: That the Torah had already been given at Mount Sinai; we pay no attention to a Heavenly Voice, because Thou hast long since written in the Torah at Mount Sinai, After the majority must one incline.

R. Nathan met Elijah and asked him: What did the Holy One, Blessed be He, do in that hour? — He laughed [with joy], he replied, saying, 'My sons have defeated Me, My sons have defeated Me.'

Talmud Bavli Baba Mesi`a 59B

In other words, no miracle or sign from heaven, even to the extent of a heavenly voice calling out "the halakha is according to so-and-so" is considered proof of your interpretation of God's word. The only valid authority is tradition, i.e. the majority opinion of the previous generation. The Tora (now that it has been given) is not made in heaven, it is made right here on earth, by mortal men.

As an aside, I have always loved that last line: nishuni banay (ניצחוני בני) - my sons have defeated me. (Or, more precisely, 'my sons are victorious over me'. Nisahon [ניצחון] means victory, it is related to nesah [נצח] - eternity.) It is an example of the playfulness often found in the Talmudic text. Remember, the Talmud is a record of actual discussions between real people. Nishuni banay doesn't really make literal sense (if God is saying it), but it effectively conveys the message that Man's fate is in his own hands, and God approves.

Comment:

It's so hard for many to accept that differents opinions may all be correct.

Posted by: muse at February 11, 2005 06:09 AM Permalink

Comment:

I have always liked this particular Talmudic passage; perhaps because, selfishly, it underscores my belief in how G-d operates in the world. Many people get angry at G-d when "bad things happen". It has long been my opinion that we are given the means to correct all the wrongs of the world, that it is in fact our job, our lot, to make this the best world possible.

Posted by: Rachel Ann at February 12, 2005 10:08 PM Permalink

Hell in Hebrew

John Ray is exploring the concept of Hell in the Bible. The short answer, as he points out, is: there is none. In fact, there really isn't even a word in modern Hebrew (let alone Biblical Hebrew) which expresses the concept of the Christian Hell. Considering how much Hebrew material (TV shows, movies, books, articles) comes from languages which do have words for this concept, it creates a quite a problem for translators. My impression is that (at least in TV shows and movies) the most common usage of the word is in the expression "go to Hell" - this, by convention, is translated: lekh l`azazel (לך לעזאזל) - go to `Azazel. But `Azazel doesn't mean Hell at all: it is the name of the cliff from which the sacrificial goat (scapegoat) was cast in ancient times as part of the process of atonement, on Yom Kipur:

וְנָתַן אַהֲרֹן עַל שְׁנֵי הַשְּׂעִירִם גֹּרָלוֹת
גּוֹרָל אֶחָד לַה' וְגוֹרָל אֶחָד לַעֲזָאזֵל
וְהִקְרִיב אַהֲרֹן אֶת הַשָּׂעִיר
אֲשֶׁר עָלָה עָלָיו הַגּוֹרָל לַה' וְעָשָׂהוּ חַטָּאת
וְהַשָּׂעִיר אֲשֶׁר עָלָה עָלָיו הַגּוֹרָל לַעֲזָאזֵל
יָעֳמַד חַי לִפְנֵי ה' לְכַפֵּר עָלָיו
לְשַׁלַּח אֹתוֹ לַעֲזָאזֵל הַמִּדְבָּרָה

V'natan aharon sh'ney has`irim goralot
Goral ehad l'H v'goral ehad la`azazel
V'hiqriv aharon et hasa`ir
Ashe `ala `alav hagoral l'H v`asahu hatat
V'hasa`ir asher `ala alav hagoral la`azazel
Ya`amad hay lifney H' l'khaper `alav
Lishalah oto la`azazel hamidbara

And Aaron cast lots on the two goats
One lot to the Lord, and one lot to Azazel
And Aaron sacrificed the goat
That the lot fell on to the Lord, and made it a sin offering
And the goat that the lot fell on it to Azazel
Will stand living before the Lord to atone for him
To send him to Azazel, into the desert

Leviticus 16:8-10

The word `Azazel comes from the words: `ez (עז) and azal (אזל). `Ez means goat (the vowel change e > a comes from normal vowel shortening due to it being the first word of a compound), and azal means 'lost', 'no more', or, in modern Hebrew, 'sold out'. So `azazel just means something like 'lost goat'. (Compound words, in Hebrew, are generally written separately, i.e. with a space between them, but occasionally place names coalesce into one word.)

The second word often used to translate 'Hell' is 'gey hinom' (גיא הינום) - this word is usually rendered into English as Gehenna. It, too, is the name of a real place - in fact, I've been there often, it's very beautiful. (So I guess you can say I've gone to Hell... and since I'll likely go there again, you can say I'm going to Hell.) Jerusalem is situated between two steep valleys, to the east is the Qidron (קידרון) Valley, and to the west is the Hinom (הינום) valley. Gey Hinom means simply 'valley of Hinom'. The two valleys meet to the south of Jerusalem, so the only way to enter the city on more-or-less level ground is from the north. (Here's a topograpic map.) Besides its literal meaning, Gey Hinom in Hebrew can refer to any terrible place (but not to a place where bad people go when they die). Its allegorical meaning comes from its history as a place were the Canaanites sacrificed their children to Ba`al:

 וּבָנוּ אֶת בָּמוֹת הַבַּעַל לִשְׂרֹף אֶת בְּנֵיהֶם בָּאֵשׁ עֹלוֹת לַבָּעַל

Uvanu et bamot haba`al lisrof et b'neyhem ba'esh `olot laba`al

And they built alters of Baal (the master) to burn their children in the fire, sacrifices to Baal

Jeremiah 19:5

John claims that this valley was Jerusalem's incinerator. I have never heard this explanation, and I don't know of any scriptural evidence for it, but it is not unlikely. The valleys around Jerusalem are hundreds of meters deep, and very steep. In the past, the city disposed of its garbage by simply throwing it into the valleys.

Finally, there is the word: sh'ol (שאול). I have never seen this word used to translate the word 'Hell'. I don't know much about this place: it has no theological significance in Judaism. As far as I can tell, it is deep, dark, underground place. But it is not the place where souls go when they die, and it is definitely not a place of exile from God:

אָנָה אֵלֵךְ מֵרוּחֶךָ וְאָנָה מִפָּנֶיךָ אֶבְרָח
אִם אֶסַּק שָׁמַיִם שָׁם אָתָּה וְאַצִּיעָה שְּׁאוֹל הִנֶּךָּ
אֶשָּׂא כַנְפֵי שָׁחַר אֶשְׁכְּנָה בְּאַחֲרִית יָם
גַּם שָׁם יָדְךָ תַנְחֵנִי  וְתֹאחֲזֵנִי יְמִינֶךָ

Ana elekh meruhekha v'ana mipaneykha evrah
Im esaq shamayim sham ata v'asi`a sh'ol hineka
esa' kanfey shahar eshk'na b'aharit yam
gam sham yadkha tahteni v'tohazeni y'minekha

Where will I go from your spirit, and where will I flee from your countenance?
If I rise up to the heavens you are there [go up], if I lie down in Sheol I behold you [go down]
If I lift up wings of morning [go to the east], if I dwell across the sea [go to the west]
Even there your hand is under me, your right [hand] holds me

Psalms 139:7-10

So what do Jews believe about the afterlife? It's late, and I have to go to sleep. I hope to address the question in a future post.

Comment:

The reason you won't find any biblical references to Hell is that there aren't any to be found. The concept of Heaven and Hell was created by the Pharisees, perhaps as a way to explain the injustices in this world, which will be rectified in the world to come. The Sadducees, an opposing sect of this period, did not believe in the concept and denied the immortality of the soul and its resurrection. If you would curse a charcter in the Bible, say King Saul, by telling him to go to hell, he would have no idea what you are talking about.

Posted by: Rachel at February 13, 2005 02:50 AM Permalink

Comment:

"Sheol" is rendered "Hades" throughout the Septuagint. When "Hades" is used in the NT, the readers understand this to be same as "Sheol (read: Hades)" in the OT. "Hades" in the NT is often translated into English as "Hell" ("Death" is also frequently seen to translate "Hades"). This was the basis for the KJV translation of "Sheol" as "Hell" in most cases: The Greek traslation was rendered that way, and so the Hebrew original was, too.

Posted by: Daniel at February 13, 2005 05:37 AM Permalink

Comment:

There are also no explicit descriptions of "hell" in the Qu'ran-- there are oblique and scarce references to Jahim, a kind of fire, and Jehenna an open pit for the burial of the war dead. The concept of hell seems to have been developed by later islamic commentaries.

Posted by: jinnderella at February 13, 2005 07:18 AM Permalink

Comment:

David, does homo sapiens need hell for some reason? Is that why we keep making it up?

Posted by: jinnderella at February 13, 2005 07:26 AM Permalink

Comment:

Rachel: I don't know who made up the concept of Hell historically, but it never became a mainstream Jewish concept.

Jinnderella: Judaism never had a Hell and still doesn't. Sheol in the Bible is a geographical place with no theological significance.

I hope to talk about this more later.

Posted by: David Boxenhorn at February 13, 2005 09:14 AM Permalink

Comment:

Then the Jews are very special indeed-- the Greeks had hell-- don't most religions incorporate some version?

Posted by: jinnderella at February 13, 2005 03:56 PM Permalink

Comment:

As a child, I was always struck by how cheap life often seemed in the Biblical stories - with the deaths of kings and other important figures glossed over in a line or two. A brief description of the burial, perhaps a summation of the character's moral worth in the eyes of God, and that was that.

Contrast this with the all-importance attributed to Christ's death in the New Testament ; it seems that, at some point, life had become much more valuable. So it's no wonder that the human soul became 'worthy' of a stylized Heaven and Hell.

Of course the influence of the pagan Elysian Fields and Tartarus can not be discounted.

Posted by: Melnorme at February 13, 2005 04:10 PM Permalink

Comment:

Melnorme: I hope to get to it, but the various Jewish alternatives make the soul no less worthy than Heaven and Hell.

Posted by: David Boxenhorn at February 13, 2005 04:23 PM Permalink

Life After Life

In the previous post I mentioned that Heaven and Hell (as places for the soul to get its eternal reward) are not part of the Jewish tradition. What, then, do Jews believe about the afterlife? The answer is: it's not well defined, i.e. there isn't one particular Jewish belief. Remember that Judaism is not a faith-based religion. Pretty much all you are required to believe to be a good Jew is that there is one (and only one) God, and that He wants Jews to follow His commandments. What I mean by "not a faith-based religion" is that it is not a particular body of faith (dogma) that sets Jews apart from members of other religions: it is a commitment to live according to halakha (Jewish Law). Judaism is a lifestyle-based religion. As a result, in many areas Judaism is quite agnostic, permitting Jews a wide variety of beliefs. One of those areas is the realm of the afterlife.

This is not to say that there are no Jewish beliefs, just that they are not required. In fact, there are several, and I will endeavor to talk about them here. Don't try to understand them as parts of a whole: they are not necessarily reconcilable with each other. However, they do have something in common: the belief that good will be rewarded and evil will punished.

`Olam Haba' (עולם הבא) - The World to Come: This is the most common notion of the afterlife that you will see in Jewish literature and prayer. It is a vague belief that there is a next world, and that you will go there when you die. There is no explicit notion as to what it is like, only that rewards and punishments will be meted out there. According to this idea, the worst possible punishment is not to go to the next world at all, i.e. to die.

Somewhat related to `Olam Haba' is the notion of eternal life in this world through your "name" - that is, the good influence your life will have on the future. The worst possible curse in Hebrew, somewhat similar to saying 'may he burn in Hell' is: yimah sh'mo (ימח שמו) - 'may his name be erased'. It is normal in Hebrew to use this expression after speaking the name of a particularly evil person, e.g. "Hitler, yimah sh'mo, invaded Poland in 1939". At some future date, when good finally wins out over evil, no remnant of Hitler's life will be left in the world.

Y'mot Hamashiah (ימות המשיח) - The Days of the Messiah: This is also a continual theme in Jewish prayer, literature, and theology. It is the notion that there will be a messianic era in which God's sovereignty will be universally recognized. It is one of Maimonides' 13 Principles of Faith, meaning that in his opinion Jews are required to believe it. But Maimonides has a very minimalist notion of the messianic era: According to Maimonides, "Nothing will change in the Messianic age except that Jews will regain their independence."

T'hiyat Hametim (תחית המתים) - Resurrection of the Dead: This is actually prophesied in the Bible, so in a literal sense it is mandatory, but what it means is subject to debate. Some equate it with either `Olam Haba' or Y'mot Hamashiah. Others, such as Maimonides, associate it with neither. There is also a debate as to whether the dead will be brought back to an ordinary corporal life, or will be brought back in incorporeal form.

Gilgul N'shamot (גילגול נשמות) - Reincarnation of Souls: This is the belief that a soul can be reborn in another body (not necessarily in the body of a human being). In terms of sociological and theological importance, this is definitely secondary to the previous three ideas. Nevertheless, it is a concept that every practicing Jew is familiar with, and may believe.

There are more, but I think this covers the major ideas. Most Jews give little thought to the details of these ideas, and if they do, it is usually in an academic sense, rather than as a deeply felt belief. However, what is deeply felt among the vast majority of Jews is that we do have an immortal soul (with the possible exception of particularly evil people), and we will be rewarded for the good that we do. Knowing the particulars is not particularly important at this point in time. It is what I believe too.

Comment:

"He wants Jews to follow his commandments"-- He wants "strangers" too! - see the Sabbath commandment. The point of "faith" as in "justification by faith" is that "strangers" by trust in God become a part of Israel [ "honorary Jews"] although not born as a Jew, and so live "within the gates".Of course this is "life-style based" for by "faith" [ie the enabling power of God] the stranger keeps the commandments, with a little latitude on interpretation of the halakha "who walk not after the flesh but after the spirit".
Talking about "flesh" have you discussed nephesh and "the breath of life".
Peter.

Posted by: peter at February 15, 2005 02:36 PM Permalink

Comment:

It's interesting that some people have an emotional need to know exactly what awaits us. Like the people who would love to do a simple mathematical formula to find out what's coming to them.
At the boker limud I go to Nissan mentioned something about it this week. I hope I took notes on that point. Bli neder, I'll start transcribing this week's notes tonight. There are things in the archives, since we're learning T'hilim and Kohelet.

Posted by: muse at February 16, 2005 03:29 PM Permalink

Comment:

It's interesting you bring this up because I was just grilling my rabbi, who believes in reincarnation, about how that all works. And I came away feeling that it's all a bit vague in the end, so I'd better simply focus on doing the best I can here and have faith that it will work out. After questioning Jews I know (I'm Bat Noach) about what they thought about where they go when they die their responses showed that they weren't really sure and it didn't seem to stress them at all, which surprised me. Isn't anyone super curious about where this life is all heading? I also find it curious that for Jews (although definetly not for me) the laws are so super specific, yet the 'finish line' is so vague. Perhaps the goal is to live purely in the moment in a hightened state of spirituality so that the heavenly experience is brought right down to us as a sign of God's pleasure. Am I even close on this?

Posted by: Alice at February 16, 2005 10:59 PM Permalink

Comment:

What do Jews tell kids when they ask where a deceased person went? (Doesn't that sound like a set up for a joke?)

Posted by: Alice at February 16, 2005 11:09 PM Permalink

Comment:

Alice: There's a saying (from Pirqey Avot 1:3):

אל תהיו כעבדים המשמשין את הרב על מנת לקבל פרס

Don't be like slaves who serve the master in order to get a reward.

Posted by: David Boxenhorn at February 16, 2005 11:09 PM Permalink

Comment:

Alice: Jews say that the person went to `Olam Haba' - the next world.

Posted by: David Boxenhorn at February 16, 2005 11:11 PM Permalink

Comment:

Thanks. Isn't there also a saying something like "If you fear God, you needn't fear anything else."? Fear implies punishment, the opposite of reward. So rewards seem built in, yet one isn't supposed to think about them- just their opposite? In other words, if you fear puishment, aren't you really seeking reward?

Posted by: Alice at February 16, 2005 11:17 PM Permalink

Comment:

It is possible to serve God out of love, or out of fear. Love is better. Love means you identify with God, you accept His goals as your goals, you merge your identity with His.

Posted by: David Boxenhorn at February 16, 2005 11:24 PM Permalink

Comment:

That's a nice way to put it. I find being one with God, when I can do it, to be a joyous experience. (I was going to say 'rewarding' but then you'd want to slap me. hee hee) Perhaps I'm really quibbling over words. And I could clearly go on all night because I've been stuck on this subject for a week. Thank you for the relaxing discussion. This is a nice blog.

Posted by: Alice at February 16, 2005 11:39 PM Permalink

Comment:

Do you think that a person could be an Orthodox Jew, and also be an atheist?

Posted by: miki at February 17, 2005 11:50 AM Permalink

Comment:

Miki: Yes, I think it's possible, though not a "religious atheist".

Posted by: David Boxenhorn at February 17, 2005 12:48 PM Permalink

Comment:

I've lost you again: what's a "religious atheist"?

Posted by: miki at February 18, 2005 09:51 AM Permalink

Comment:

Miki: One who thinks people "should" be atheist.

Posted by: David Boxenhorn at February 18, 2005 10:38 AM Permalink

Comment:

Those seriously interested in the subject will probably want to look up Simcha Raphael Paull's "Jewish Views of the Afterlife" (Jason Aronson, Inc., 1996), which translates a great variety of texts, with some analysis, and some personal interpretation. The plural in the title ("Jewish Views," not "The Jewish View") recognizes up front that the book is about a subject which never became a matter of uniform required belief.

Simply assembling the material from a variety of places and dates over two millenia gives a somewhat misleading impression of the extent of detailed speculation about an afterlife, rewards and punishments therein, and personal eschatology in general. Some of it had very limited circulation, a few pieces were included in well-known Midrash collections. And, whlle some of the material clearly belongs to the main stream of Rabbinic culture, some looks like it was always marginal, at best. Paull acknowledges this, but one has to read carefully!

Reincarnation clearly was important to Lurianic and early Hassidic groups; how they thought it fit in with older accounts of Gehinnom, Pardes, and the World to Come, is often unclear in the few texts I have seen translated.

Posted by: Ian Myles Slater at March 2, 2005 01:21 AM Permalink

Diminishing returns to order

Some years ago, when my wife was 7 months pregnant with our first child, we took a three-week vacation in Scandinavia. (Probably our last vacation as a couple for the next 20 years...) I was reminded of this trip when I read Hatshepsut's post comparing Israeli and Icelandic hospitality.

We were a group of about 45 Israelis: about half older couples on a post-child-raising vacation, and the other half mostly retired people. My wife and I were among the youngest on the trip, which suited us fine, since we were still newly enough married to be fairly uninterested in others our own age. So it wasn't a group of rowdy youngsters by any means. Nevertheless, we garrulous, amiable, informal Israelis were quite a contrast to our dour, formal hosts. And there were no lack of conflicts and misunderstandings as a result. I will relate some of them here. (Warning: I am telling these stories from my own point of view, which is distinctly one-sided.)

Now, a seven-month-pregnant woman has quite a large child sitting on her bladder. As a result, we were in a more or less continual search for a bathroom. You may or may not believe this, but restaurants in Scandinavia will actually turn away an obviously pregnant woman with the refrain: "The bathrooms are only for patrons". Sometimes they will direct you somewhere else, often located a considerable distance away, often a McDonald's or some other restaurant. One time in Stockholm, after being turned away from several establishments in a row, a patron overheard my wife being told, yet again, that she couldn't use the bathroom. He got up from his meal and told the headwaiter that he wouldn't eat in a restaurant that wouldn't let a pregnant woman use the bathroom. As we were walking out (me, my wife, and the patron) we exchanged a few words. He was an Israeli.

We spent the days touring, often arriving late at our hotel. One time in Oslo we arrived at our destination quite late, around 11:15 PM. As 45 Israelis decamped in the lobby, our tour guide argued with the management. She had arranged to arrive late, but she had told them that we would arrive at 11:00 - and we were fifteen minutes late! So apparently the personnel necessary to admit us had already been sent home. Eventually some more money changed hands, the missing personnel miraculously appeared, and we were admitted. I couldn't help thinking that if it were Jews behaving this way toward Scandinavians, instead of the other way around, we would be hearing some nasty stereotypes.

My last story took place at a hotel in some tiny Norwegian town, I don't remember which (we were in a lot of them). The usual procedure for disembarking was very orderly, and we eventually learned it well. Our tour guide had given all our baggage large, colorful numbers. When we arrived, she would give the hotel management a list of our names and numbers (the same numbers as on our baggage) and they would use it to assign rooms, hand out keys, and bring the baggage to the correct destination. The bus driver would unload the baggage from the bus, and line it up on the curb, from which someone from the hotel staff would take it to the rooms. It so happened that shortly after we arrived at this particular hotel, while we were waiting in the lobby to get our room assignments, the heavens opened up, and it started to pour. We looked out the glass front of the hotel, and there were our bags, in a neat line, getting wet. Of course, we all ran outside to collect our suitcases, and bring them helter-skelter into the lobby. The hotel management was furious! "You cannot do this!" (That's an exact quote.) We were disrupting their system. "You will have to take your baggage to your rooms yourself," they told us. And that's what we did.

It seems to me that there are diminishing returns to order, and at some point they become distinctly negative. But maybe that's just my cultural prejudice. Scandinavia is much cleaner and neater than Israel.

PS: Our Swedish bus driver probably thought that we hated him. People were always complaining to him about something, or making life hard for him in some way. What a surprise he got when, at the end of the trip, someone spontaneously organized to tip him. It came to quite a lot, and he was visibly pleased.

Trackback from Cerberus Blog, Found Elsewhere:

My Grand Tour of Europe is still in the future, but it seems to confirm some of the horror stories as related to me by my fellow Americans who have traveled in Europe.

Comment:

Okay to begin with... It was wrong of the busdriver to accept the tip. You don't tip in Scandinavia. Instead you pay *high* prices. I'm sure you noticed that, since Norway is the only country I've visited where prices come anywhere close to Iceland, where I live. (This is why I always get quite nervous in Israel, because I don't know how the whole tipping things works).

Second. The incident with the suitcase sounds strange. That's bad luck. But I mean HEY, I was almost arrested by the immigration police in Israel, just because of my Nordic appearance and a backpack.

Oslo is the worst place in the world for finding public bathrooms. I once searched 2 hours in vain. The only ones I could find cost *at least* $1,50, and I just wasn't prepared to pay that much for something I do all the time.. However, it isn't customary for Scandinavians to walk into a restaurant and ask to use the bathroom, not even if you're pregnant. It sounds bad, sure, but that's how it is. I would never do it. I myself work at a giftshop, and we're not allowed to let customers use the bathroom. We tell them where the next public toilet is (I once made an exception for a little boy). You go to a public bathroom.
But here in Iceland things are more laid back than in Norway. You should come here next!

http://icelandiscool.com/photos/

Posted by: Maria at February 18, 2005 09:00 PM Permalink

Comment:

I think it's mean to turn away a pregnant woman who wants to use the bathroom. Shame on those restaurants concerned!

Like all evil, it's self-defeating, as the lone Israeli boycotter showed. It's bad for business to show disregard for suffering -- getting worse as awareness grows.

However, if you have used a private bathroom belonging to some business establishment, it also would be slightly mean to leave the premises without buying something or leaving a tip for the staff. So a pregnant lady should order a (small!) drink, or buy a packet of peanuts at the bar, or leave some money in the tip jar, perform some gesture, or something.

After all, the last thing we need is another EU regulation in this area. My local cafe's owner (which served an excellent cooked breakfast) had to shut down the kitchen because he couldn't afford to make his perfectly adequate bathroom compliant with European standards.

Posted by: Tom at February 19, 2005 03:15 AM Permalink

Comment:

Maria: I don't think there's a comparison between avoidably wet luggage and the Israeli police's temporary suspicion - they are at war against people who want to blow ordinary civilians to bits. Anything slightly unusual is probably going to make junior officials nervous.

Perhaps your outrage in Oslo led you to make an irrational choice. Isn't $1.50 worth less than 2 hours of free time?

Posted by: Tom at February 19, 2005 03:17 AM Permalink

Comment:

I'm married to a Swede. The bathroom thing throws us off every time we go there. You've got to plan it kind of, like have change at all times because you never know when it'll be a pay toilet- if you find the bathroom at all. It's wacky. And as a pregnant lady who often wonders why God put the bladder UNDER the baby, I can totally sympathize. It think it's inhuman to deny someone a bathroom. I grew up in DC, clearly a tourist destination, and NEVER had problems finding a bathroom or letting someon euse th bathroom where I worked, etc.- parking yes, bathrooms no.

This is not to say that there aren't many beautiful things about Swedes. And many Swedes kind of hate the bathroom system too!

Posted by: Alice at February 19, 2005 05:15 PM Permalink

Comment:

Maria: Thanks for the perspective, I would love to visit Iceland!

Posted by: David Boxenhorn at February 19, 2005 06:11 PM Permalink

Comment:

We lived in London during my third pregnancy, and I had trouble finding public toilets there, too. This was in 1976. It wasn't/isn't? required even in department stores. Some have, and some don't. Once I was rather desperate, as only a pregnant woman could be, and wrangled a key for the staff loo. I learned not to be shy.

Posted by: muse at February 20, 2005 05:52 AM Permalink

Comment:

Yikes. 'Round these parts it's like:

"Dude! I gotta use yer bathroom!"
"Ouch! Second door on the left!"
"Thanks, man!"
"No sweat!"

Why in the world do people restrict their bathrooms? Is it just a territorial thing? "It is mine and is, therefore, not for asking!"

Or is it a money thing? "I pay the water bill and you may not flush without purchasing a pack of Yodels first!"

WTF? Denying anyone in need -- pregnant woman or otherwise -- use of your facilities is just plain rude and downright humiliation in action.

If someone asks to use my bathroom it means that they need a bathroom. Better to let you use mine than to leave you to pee in your pants, I think.

**shakes head**

Ponderous.

Posted by: Tuning Spork at February 20, 2005 08:07 AM Permalink

Comment:

Tom: There is no need to speak to me as if I were an imbecile? Yeah sure 2 hours of free time is worth more than $1,50. But to begin with, I kept thinking I would find a free toilet (since that's what I'm used to, being from Iceland). I'm a female, meaning I use the bathroom a lot, so having to pay that much everytime I go is a bitter pill to swallow.
As for the Israeli security. Sure it's understandable that there is security. But what they put me through in Israel (on numerous occasions) is *completely* unacceptable, and was only caused by my Scandinavian appearance. None of my Jewish friends have ever had to suffer anything of the sort. It often came close to ruining my trip. So try to avoid being unnecessarily rude next time, when you don't have all the facts.

Posted by: Maria at February 20, 2005 01:24 PM Permalink

Comment:

As someone with a digestive disorder the bathroom situation is near and dear to my heart. I certainly do not need a bathroom at all times, but when I need to go the need is imminent, so this is a little disconcerting.

Anyway, part of the fun of traveling is experiencing new things, so I do find the cultural differences to be interesting.

Posted by: Jack at February 21, 2005 08:19 AM Permalink

Comment:

Oh but despite bathroom matters, wasn't Norway otherwise amazing?

Posted by: Hatshepsut at February 21, 2005 10:49 AM Permalink

Comment:

Yes, geographically, Norway was amazing. I also like the wide variety of fish.

Posted by: David Boxenhorn at February 21, 2005 11:21 AM Permalink

Comment:

Maria: I'm sorry if I've given offence, I didn't mean to be rude. I prefer a direct style of argument, without meta-discussion (which tends to obstruct truth-seeking). As a Popperian I welcome criticism and will be more careful in future comments.

The public bathroom episode was an example of the sunk cost fallacy. After, say, one hour of searching one should simply write off the time and pay the $1.50

Goodness knows I make this sort of mistake frequently. It crops up in many parts of our lives.

As for Israeli security, I wanted to make the point that during wartime there are unpleasant restrictions together, as always, with unintended consequences. You're right -- I don't have all the facts, in this kind of discussion that is unavoidable. Having visited your site, I see you have more experience of Israeli matters than me. So regarding the holiday experience, I'll defer to your wisdom.

Posted by: Tom at February 23, 2005 03:13 AM Permalink

Equality and Diversity

Equality and Diversity: two mantras of modern times. I am passionately in favor of both. Which, ironically, puts me out of step with current fashion, for current fashion somehow manages to interpret these two words in a way which is diametrically opposed to what I believe. How did that happen?

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

United States Declaration of Independence

The framers of the Declaration of Independence, when they wrote these words, were well aware that people are not equal (i.e. "the same") - as were millions of Americans in the centuries that followed. Yet these words were taken at face value in most people's minds, without need of interpretation or elaboration. What could they have meant to these people if, in our day and age, they seem so hard to illusory?

The answer is really quite simple, and it shows how far we, as a society, have moved away from our traditions. Equality, of course, didn't mean in equal in qualities or circumstances, but in our humanity. Or, as someone at the time would likely have put it: "Equal before God". It is this essential equality from which we derive equal rights. But remove God from the picture (as most of us moderns do) and we are left with the nebulous idea: humanity - a belief in which is no less faith-based than a belief in God.

But that is not the end of the story. Take God out of the picture, and there is nothing left with which to judge a life worth lived than "qualities and circumstances". In contrast, followers of the Judeo-Christian tradition (and many other traditions, I am sure, as well) assert an essential meaning to life, our qualities and circumstances being transient and mysterious to human understanding. A follower of these traditions is comfortable with the idea that each of us has our own challenges in life, whether qualities (laziness, anger, pride...) or circumstances (poverty, persecution, death...) and are lauded not for the achievement of some arbitrary standard, but for overcoming our own particular challenges. Still, we are expected to adhere to a universal standard of morality, with the assurance that meaning can be found in any life, no matter how hard. Take away the sacred standard of meaning and morality, and you are left with a new essentialism - the belief that we are intrinsically, mundanely (as opposed to transcendently), qualitatively, equal, and that all appearances to the contrary are due to mere circumstance. Clearly, this is a new religion, inasmuch as it replaces one axiomatic notion of equality with another.

Religion, by my definition at least, is part of the human condition. (My definition of religion: that which we believe but cannot prove. Preferably the "we" does not refer to the individual in question, but to inhabitants of this world.) Therefore, the rejection of one religion necessarily requires the adherence to another. So, it is not surprising that, considering our commitment to the axiom of equality, once its transcendent definition is discarded, a new mundane definition must be found. It is from this need that we derive the current definition of diversity.

Diversity, by this definition, is that which makes us seem different from one another, despite the fact that we are equal. So the real crime is noticing it in any way other than to make sure it is not noticed. In other words: since we are all equal, any deviation from equal results must by definition be the result of immoral recognition of diversity and thus the only moral response (fighting fire with fire) is to recognize diversity in order to fix it (by quotas, reverse discrimination, etc.).

This is what we have come to. While once we could delight in the diversity of the universe (God's creation, by some), now we must believe that diversity is an illusion. There is no other way to square diversity and equality. We must give up on one, at least in this world - or give up on the notion of equal rights.

So which are you?

1. Equality is transcendent, diversity is real

2. Equality is real, diversity an illusion

3. People are not "endowed with equal rights"

4. Something else?

Comment:

Diversity-we are all different, different talents, needs, weaknesses, etc.
Equality-we all deserve the opportunity to develope and thrive, regardless of our diversity.

If someone needs special help, it shouldn't be called "crutches," "dispensations," or "hakalot," it should be called accomodations, "hatamot."

Posted by: muse at February 23, 2005 05:21 AM Permalink

Comment:

Diversity--we're all different (duh)
Equality--we're all dead in the long run

Posted by: Ingemar at February 24, 2005 06:49 PM Permalink

Europe betrays freedom, again

Europe's love affair with tyrants - and hatred of democracy - continues. Vaclav Havel writes:

One of the strongest and most powerful democratic institutions in the world -- the European Union -- has no qualms in making a public promise to the Cuban dictatorship that it will re-institute diplomatic Apartheid. The EU's embassies in Havana will now craft their guest lists in accordance with the Cuban government's wishes. The shortsightedness of socialist Prime Minister José Zapatero of Spain has prevailed.

Try to imagine what will happen: At each European embassy, someone will be appointed to screen the list, name by name, and assess whether and to what extent the persons in question behave freely or speak out freely in public, to what extent they criticize the regime, or even whether they are former political prisoners. Lists will be shortened and deletions made, and this will frequently entail eliminating even good personal friends of the diplomats in charge of the screening, people whom they have given various forms of intellectual, political or material assistance. It will be even worse if the EU countries try to mask their screening activities by inviting only diplomats to embassy celebrations in Cuba.

I can hardly think of a better way for the EU to dishonor the noble ideals of freedom, equality and human rights that the Union espouses -- indeed, principles that it reiterates in its constitutional agreement. To protect European corporations' profits from their Havana hotels, the Union will cease inviting open-minded people to EU embassies, and we will deduce who they are from the expression on the face of the dictator and his associates. It is hard to imagine a more shameful deal.

Posted by David Boxenhorn at 07:03 PM  Permalink | Comments (1)
Trackback URL: http://blog.mu.nu/cgi/trackback.cgi/68224

Comment:

Well, name another country that can match Al Qaeda one for one in bombing Embassies.....you got it, the U.S! That is the real shameful deal.

Posted by: Collin Baber at March 3, 2005 12:55 PM Permalink

Modules of my Mind

Quite a lot of discussion on Gene Expression has revolved around the modular nature of the human brain. Now, I know very little about neurology, but I do have extensive experience with at least one data point, and I do know something about modules: they feature prominently in my profession. So I would like to attempt to put my knowledge of the subject on line and see if anything more general can be learned from it.

I earn my living designing software systems, and I work with the concept of a module every day. In fact, I think of systems as being composed of only two things: modules and architecture. The perfect module is what we in the industry call a "black box" - one which is so completely defined by its interfaces that its inner workings need not be known. This is not as clean a definition as it may, at first, appear: interfaces can be very complex. At the extreme, a module's behavior can be so complex that nothing less than publishing its source code will describe its behavior. On the other hand, a well designed system will have modules as close as possible to black boxes, meaning that all interdependencies between modules will occur at the interface level. (When modules influence each other not at the level of interface, this is called a "side effect".)

Architecture, on the other hand, is the environment in which these modules "live" and interact with each other. For example, the steering wheel of a car is a module: it can be replaced with, say, levers without changing any other parts. Gasoline, on the other hand, is an architectural feature: replace it with diesel or, even worse, electricity, and the car will have to be completely redesigned. Sometimes an architectural feature can be expressed as a module: IANA and DNS, for example, can be easily described by interfaces, like modules, but without them the Internet would cease to function. These kind of modules are often called low-level modules or resources - i.e. modules that are primarily (or solely) used by other modules.

Okay, that was a pretty boring introduction, but I am a great believer in the maxim: “The beginning of wisdom is the definition of terms” - so I felt I had to get it out of the way. Now (...since I no nothing about neurology), I would like to define my mental modules on a purely functional basis: a module is something I do (correctly) without "thinking" i.e. without being conscious of thought. Language, of course, is the most obvious mental module: I produce grammatical sentences in my native language without thinking (of the grammar), and I can tell when a sentence is ungrammatical instantaneously, without necessarily being able to say why - i.e. I first know that the sentence is ungrammatical, I then have to go back figure out why. In fact, I first started thinking about modules of my mind because of a dramatic event in my life: I suddenly, after years of trying, found myself able to speak a foreign language.

What happened? One day I was painfully parsing sentences and figuring out what they meant. The next day I was just listening and understanding. I had the same amount of knowledge of grammar and vocabulary - obviously that didn't change overnight. On thinking about it, I realized that though this experience was particularly dramatic, it was by no means unique. I have a vivid memory from about the age of 5 or 6 of suddenly being able to ride a bicycle. Again, one moment I couldn't do it, the next moment I could, and I've been riding ever since. Later on something similar happened with symbolic logic: I spent most of a semester looking at proofs, understanding every step, yet having no idea how they got from here to there, i.e. how they chose which steps to take. Then one day, I knew instinctively what to do.

On further reflection, I realized that what I experience as "thought" is really only a tiny proportion of what I do that might, in some other person/organism/world be called thinking. Balancing, seeing, hearing - anyone who has tried to program a computer to do these things knows how difficult it is (in fact, it's impossible at the current state of the art) to even come close to what humans do automatically, without "thinking". It reminds me of a story from the early days of personal computing. At the height of the "database wars" between Dbase and FoxBase, Dbase claimed to be faster because it was written in assembly language, while FoxBase was written in a high-level language (C). It turned out, upon testing, that FoxBase was, in fact, faster. One commentator (I forget which) wrote something like: "The Dbase people should learn something about the importance of algorithms". In other words, although something written in assembly language is theoretically faster, since compiled code is visibly full of inefficiencies (especially considering the compliers of the day) the performance hit of high-level languages is more than made up for by their contribution to the efficiency of the human mind, and its consequent enhanced ability to create efficient algorithms. The moral of the story: For most tasks, it's most important to enhance the efficiency of the human mind.

Now, let's look at some consequences of my particular definition of modularity as it relates to the human mind.

1. I don't see any difference between the language module, the sight module, and the bicycle-riding module - i.e. new modules can be added ad hoc. (This does not rule out the possibility that some modules are supported by "hardware", only that there are clearly "software" modules as well.)

2. General Intelligence is either a characteristic of one or more low-level modules or an architectural feature (such as dendrite growth).

3. The ability to perform a task well is often critically dependent on the development of relevant modules.

I particularly want to relate to points (1) and (3) with respect to education. Not long ago, a GNXP post asked: "What kinds of activities can be done to enhance cognition and memory beyond nutritional interventions?" I would like to answer a similar question: I think that more education should be devoted specifically toward equipping people with mental modules that are useful in our society. Some of these modules can be called, "skills" - and there is a recognition of the importance of teaching skills. (Though I can think of at least one skill that every elementary-school graduate would benefit from in this day and age: typing.) But I'm sure there are other modules, not usually recognized as skills, that would help with many cognitive tasks, which we could seek to develop explicitly. Here's one: Math. I remember kids in school people complaining of "math block" - at the time I thought they were just making up excuses, but now, after my experience with learning a foreign language, I believe them. I am fairly good at math, and when I see an equation, I don't just see it as a collection of symbols - it "speaks" to me. One glance and I say, for example, "that's a parabola" and in my mind's eye I see a picture of a parabola. I bet that most people can't do this, but perhaps with a little directed training, they could.

(Cross posted at Gene Expression.)

Comment:

Very interesting about the modules. I wonder if it might be better to teach less math but make students spend a lot more time using the math they learn, so it becomes like a language they think in.

Forget about the typing. It's now become a part of kids play, in the form of instant messaging. My children type like blazes with nary a lesson. I suspect in the future only loners will need to "learn" to type.

The best skill or module I got from school was the experience of having a "math block" in Trig, and being forced to learn it anyway. I forgot the math once the test was passed, but ever since I've been blessed with the belief that I can, if I work hard enough, learn things that seem impossible. No more "blocks." (Just laziness to stop me.)

Posted by: John Weidner at February 28, 2005 06:12 AM Permalink

Hiatus

My parents are coming to visit tomorrow. They're landing at the airport at 5:35 AM (I have to pick them up).

Lately, I've had even less time to post than usual. And while my parents are here I'll have even less than that.

So I'd like to declare a hiatus. If I find I have the time, I will post. But no promises. (I think I'll still read comments.)

They leave March 29.

Comment:

Enjoy the visit.

Posted by: muse at February 23, 2005 05:17 AM Permalink

Comment:

Thanks.

Posted by: David Boxenhorn at February 23, 2005 01:20 PM Permalink

Comment:

wondeful!!! have a great visit!

Posted by: celestial blue at February 23, 2005 05:53 PM Permalink

Comment:

Israeli review of the Blank Slate :

http://www.haayal.co.il/story_2244

Posted by: Melnorme at February 24, 2005 04:03 PM Permalink

Comment:

Enjoy the visit!

Posted by: Rachel Ann at February 27, 2005 10:26 PM Permalink

Comment:

It's been a week. Hope you're having a great time!

Posted by: Tuning Spork at March 3, 2005 05:37 AM Permalink

Comment:

Well I see you weren't exaggerating! Not that I wanna sound pushy, I hope your inlaws have a great time, and eat lots of wonderful Israeli food! (One might think food is all I think about..).

Posted by: Hatshepsut at March 3, 2005 08:14 PM Permalink