Al Reguel Ajat

Alexander the Great (356–323 BCE) was the king of Macedonia from 336 BCE until his death. During his reign, which lasted only thirteen years, he expanded his empire to include countries as distant as India and Egypt, including the Land of Israel. He founded the city of Alexandria in 331 BCE, in a strategic port region in the Nile Delta. His conquests not only completely changed the political structure of the area, but also ushered in an era of extraordinary cultural exchange, in which Greek culture spread throughout the Mediterranean, the Middle East, and Central Asia. Greek became the language of the empire.

Upon Alexander’s death, his generals divided the empire, and Egypt fell to Ptolemy. Under Ptolemy, Alexandria became the cultural center of the ancient world. He built the famous «Temple to the Muses,» the «Museion,» from which the word «museum» comes. As part of the temple was the Great Royal Library of Alexandria, which would become the largest library in the world at that time. Great scholars such as Archimedes, Euclid, and Galen settled in the city, and at one point there were 14,000 students among its residents.

The Bible records that Jews began settling in Egypt after Nebuchadnezzar’s capture of Jerusalem (586 BCE) and the assassination of Gedaliah (2 Kings 25-26). Years later, Jewish immigrants settled in Alexandria during the Ptolemaic period, attracted by its religious tolerance and vibrant cultural life. In his books, Flavius ​​Josephus recounts that Ptolemy, after conquering Judea, took 120,000 Jewish prisoners to Egypt. Many other Jews followed them, since in Alexandria, Jews enjoyed full civil rights like any Greek citizen, but remained an independent and autonomous political community. Historians estimate that 40% of Alexandria’s population was Jewish.

It was during this time that Hellenistic Judaism began its development. One of the main cultural contributions of the Jews of Alexandria was the Septuagint, the first Greek translation of the Bible, commissioned by Ptolemy II, who commissioned 72 scholars who were fluent in both Hebrew and Greek. Legend has it that Ptolemy placed the 72 scholars in separate rooms and told each one: «Write for me the Torah of Moses, your teacher.» Legend has it that all the translations were identical. With the Septuagint, the Jews of Alexandria, who only spoke Greek, had access to Jewish sources. But these Hellenistic Jews, who had been educated in Greek culture, interpreted the Bible differently.

Some of them, most notably Philo, explained the Holy Scriptures through the lens of classical Greek philosophy: the precepts of the Torah had to be understood using logic and reason and had to be universal and immutable truths. It was no longer enough to say that the Jewish commandments were valid only because they had been commanded by God. And Philo, through symbolism and allegory, somehow demonstrated that the laws of the Torah complied with the Greek way of thinking. Ultimately, he sought to teach the Greeks the values ​​of Judaism, and he ended up teaching the Jews Greek values.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Jewish Encyclopedia, Encyclopaedia Judaica, lecture by Christine Hayes

and other sources.

Professor David Biale comments that, since there is no central authority in Judaism, many popular beliefs, simply because they are mentioned in rabbinic literature, seem to have the approval of the rabbis, as is the case with magic and the existence of demons, themes frequently found in Jewish folklore.

It is written in Deuteronomy 18:10-12: “There shall not be found among you anyone who makes his son or his daughter pass through the fire, or one who practices divination, or a sorcery, or a soothsayer, or a medium, or a spiritist, or one who calls up the dead. For whoever does these things is an abomination to the Lord; and because of these abominations the Lord your God will drive out those nations from before you.”

There is virtually no mention of supernatural beings in the Bible, but they are mentioned in the Talmud, especially in the Babli, since in Babylon, for example, belief in demons was deeply rooted among the local non-Jewish population. We see in Tractate Berachot 6a: «Abba Benjamin says: If the eye had the power to see them, no creature could endure the demons. Abaye says: They are more numerous than we and surround us like the ridge around a field. R. Huna says: Each of us has a thousand in his left hand and ten thousand in his right hand. Raba says: The crushing of the crowd at Kallah lectures comes from them. The fatigue in the knees comes from them. The weariness of the scholars’ clothes is due to rubbing against them. The bruise of the feet comes from them.» Talmudic literature rarely goes into detail about what demons and magical creatures are like, or whether they are truly independent beings or simply psychological realities. In Kabbalah, however, the descriptions are much more detailed. Recently, Rabbi Yacob Menashe, an ultra-Orthodox rabbi, wrote: “The holy Zohar tells us that when Shabbat ends, great bands of evil spirits fly around the world. That is why we recite the Mizmor «Yosheb Besether Elyon» (Psalm 91) after the Amidah at the end of Shabbat, because it has the power to drive these spirits away. The Zohar tells us that when evil spirits see pious people reciting prayers, psalms, and Habdalah, they flee.”

Conservative and Reform Judaism do not believe in demons. For them, God is transcendent, so there is no room for other supernatural powers. For the Orthodox, however, who maintain that the Talmud is the Oral Torah that Moses received on Mount Sinai along with the Written Torah, they do exist. For example, in Sefer Raziel, a book of spells and magical practices widely circulated in Europe and the Middle East, the story is told that the angel Raziel revealed divine secrets to Adam after his expulsion from Paradise to help him cope with life outside the Garden of Eden, the same secrets he later also revealed to Abraham. David Biale says: “The fact that this book of magic was known to almost all Jewish communities demonstrates that religious folklore was as popular as rabbinic laws.” Hell!

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: David Biale: “The Norton anthology of world religions. Judaism.” Articles by Rabbi Yacob Menashe, Jay Michaelson, Rabbi Louis Jacobs, and Adam Kirsch.

Sigismund Schlomo Freud (1856–1939) was born in Freiberg, Moravia, part of the Austrian Empire. His parents were originally from Galicia, a region in northwestern Ukraine. His family moved to Vienna when he was three years old. Freud lived in that city for virtually his entire life. In 1881, he graduated with a medical degree from the University of Vienna. In 1886, he married Martha Bernays, the granddaughter of Isaac Bernays, the chief rabbi of Hamburg. The couple had six children. In 1938, Freud left Vienna to escape the Nazis. He died in exile in the United Kingdom. Freud was the founder of psychoanalysis, a clinical method for treating psychopathology.

By the time Freud was born, his parents were already less observant of Jewish law and rituals than they had been when they lived in their villages in Galicia. Yet, Freud’s home was rich in Jewish culture and religion. The Jewish scriptures were the primary instrument of Freud’s education until he attended school at the age of nine. His social life also took place primarily within a Jewish framework. The first to hear his ideas on psychoanalysis were the members of his B’nei B’rith group, a Jewish service organization.

For Freud, the most important element of Judaism was the «prohibition against making an image of God.» Therefore, the Jew’s relationship with God took place in his mind, in his intellect, what he called «Geistigkeit.» The Jew speaks, argues, requests, thinks, imagines, and reasons with a God who has neither form nor name. And they do it all in their mind. This contrasts with other religions that approach God primarily through the senses, where He does have an image, a name, and a ceremony where you can see, hear, touch, smell, and even taste the divine. Freud said that this difference between the intellectual and the sensorial marked the Jewish character for more than two thousand years.

Freud said that, for Jews, believing that God chose them to fulfill a special role in the world helped them maintain their self-esteem, despite the adverse conditions they endured due to the deep anti-Semitism that prevailed at that time, especially in Germanic Europe. He also said that what truly made a person Jewish was not believing in a monotheistic god, eating kosher food, circumcising one’s sons, or any other number of uniquely Jewish beliefs, practices, or inclinations. According to Freud, a person is Jewish simply because they inherit «the traces of memory and experience of their ancestors.»

Freud once wrote: “I can declare that I am as far removed from the Jewish religion as from all others. They don’t attach the slightest sentiment to me. On the other hand, I have always had a powerful sense of community with my people, which I have also nurtured in my children. We all still belong to the Jewish faith.” Freud had Judaism in his veins.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Sigmund Freud, “Moses and Monotheistic Religion.” Articles by Eliza Slavet, Lydia Flem, and Mark Edmundson.

“Tsene-rene” is a book written in Yiddish by Jacob ben Isaac Ashkenazi, around 1590. The text is based on the structure of the “parashot” of the Torah, the weekly sections into which the Torah is divided, mixed with texts from the Talmud, especially the Agadah and the Midrash. The name comes from a verse in the Song of Songs (3:11) which in Hebrew says: “Tzena Urena banot Zion,” “Go forth and see, O daughters of Zion.” On its cover, in addition to the title, it explains that it contains: “The Pentateuch in the language of Ashkenaz (Yiddish), the five “megillot” (The Song of Songs, Ruth, Ecclesiastes, Esther, and Lamentations), and the Haftarot, portions of the books of the prophets.”

The Tsene-rene has been published in over 200 editions. The current one is under the English title «The Weekly Midrash.» Because it was originally written in Yiddish, the book was very popular, especially among those who did not speak Hebrew, the «sacred» language. This group included women, who, by principle, were not taught the language of the Torah, although they did know its alphabet, allowing them to read Yiddish, the Jewish language of Eastern Europe.

 Adam Kirsch explains: “By the title alone, the book was aimed at a female audience. Any Jew who couldn’t read the Bible in Hebrew could approach it through the Yiddish Tsene-rene. Many Jewish children absorbed Bible stories through their mothers reading them aloud. But Tsene-rene is not a simple translation of the Bible; if it were, it might never have become so popular. What Jacob ben Isaac Ashkenazi produced, instead, was a free paraphrase and interpretation of the five books of Moses, drawing on numerous sources, with the idea of ​​giving the reader a picture of how Jewish tradition understood the text.”

Kirsch says: “The Tsene-rene is a didactic book whose aim is to draw moral lessons from the biblical text. It is especially interested in using the women of the Bible as models of feminine virtues. The lives of the matriarchs, Eve and Miriam, are used to demonstrate the values ​​of Jewish tradition and instill them in the reader. This was not easy, as many biblical narratives present women in a negative light. Such as the story of Adam and Eve, created from a rib while he slept. The Tsene-rene explains it this way: «God made Adam sleep to teach us that a man should not constantly fight with his wife. If he sees her doing something he dislikes, he should pretend he didn’t see it and act asleep.» The sleeping Adam becomes the model husband, for he knows when to close his eyes. The Tsene-rene also explains that «woman is, by nature, stronger than man, having been created from a bone, while man was created from dust that dissolves easily.» In another story from Genesis, the Tsene-rene offers a description of Sarah kneading the dough for matzah, the day before Passover, although Passover, the festival of Jewish liberation from Egypt, was not instituted for hundreds of years.

 The author of the Tsene-rene projected the Judaism he knew, with all its rituals, back to the time of the matriarchs. They simply could not imagine Jewish life any other way.» The Tsene-rene, the first Jewish feminist book, put women front and center.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Adam Kirsch, “The People and the Books.” Jacob Elbaum, Chava Turniansky “Tsene-rene”

Glückel of Hameln was born in Hamburg in 1646. When she was twelve, her parents engaged her to Haym of Hameln, whom she married two years later. Over time, Haym became a successful businessman in Hamburg. They had fourteen children, twelve of whom survived. In addition to fulfilling her duties as a mother and wife, Glückel was actively involved in the family business, so much so that when her husband was asked on his deathbed if he wished to leave any final instructions or advice, he replied: «I have no instructions. My wife knows everything about the business. Let her continue doing it as she has done until now.» Haym died in 1689. Eleven years later, Glückel married Hertz Levy of Metz, the city to which they moved. Hertz drained the family fortune, and upon his death in 1711, Glückel was left in utter poverty, dependent on the support of one of her daughters and her son-in-law.

Glückel began writing her memoirs, in Yiddish, two years after Haym’s death, to «banish the melancholic thoughts she had during many sleepless nights and to be able to pass on to her children the stories of their parents’ lives.» Java Turniansky tells us: «The first chapter is an introduction to her spiritual world, a kind of manifesto of the faith, beliefs, aspirations, motives, and opinions of this pious and God-fearing Jewish woman, where she addressed themes from the field of Mussar, the Jewish movement of morality and ethical teachings.» In the introduction to the first chapter, Glückel wrote the following story:

“A bird tried to cross a sea with its three chicks. The sea was so wide and the wind so strong that the father bird was forced to carry its young, one by one, in its strong talons. When it was halfway across with the first chick, the wind turned into a gale, and it said, “My child, look how I am struggling and risking my life for you.” When you are older, will you do the same for me and provide for me in my old age?» The chick replied, «Just take me to a safe place, and when you are old, I will do anything you ask.» At that moment, the father bird threw his son into the sea. He drowned, and the father said, «This is what is done to a liar like you.» Then the father bird returned to the shore, came out with his second son, asked him the same question, and upon receiving the same answer, drowned the second son with the cry, «You are a liar too!» Finally, he set off with the third chick, and when he asked the same question, the third and last chick replied, «My dear father, it is true that you are fighting mightily and risking your life for me, and I would be wrong if I did not return this to you when you are old, but I cannot commit myself. However, I can promise you this: when I grow up and have children, I will do as much for them as you did for me.» Then the father bird said, «You have spoken well and wisely, my son, and I will spare your life and bring you safely to shore.»

From her diary, we know that Glückel had a traditional Jewish education. From her personal reading, she not only gleaned dozens of stories and parables that she included in the text, but also the foundations of her worldview and her Judaism. It is also a historical testimony of what the Jewish world was like at that time. The diary of Glückel of Hameln is more than her personal history.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Java Turniansky: “Glückel of Hameln”

Menasheh ben Israel (1604-1657) was born into a family of Portuguese Jewish converts who left Lisbon fleeing the Inquisition, which had brought them to trial for secretly practicing Judaism. Menasheh’s exact birthplace is unknown; some say it was in La Rochelle, France, in 1604, but by 1610 his family was already settled in Amsterdam. There they joined the Neveh Shalom Sephardic community, and Menasheh began studying with the community’s rabbi, Isaac Uzziel. Upon Uzziel’s death in 1620, Menasheh took his place and married Rachel Soeiro two years later.

Although Menasheh soon distinguished himself as a great orator and educator, this activity did not provide him with enough income to live on, so he decided to open what was the first Jewish printing press in Holland. In 1627, he produced his first prayer book, followed by other works, including an edition of the Mishnah. But even with the printing press, Menasheh’s financial situation did not improve, so he considered settling in Brazil. Fortunately, the Pereira brothers provided sufficient funds to establish a yeshiva and appoint him its director.

While printing and dedicating himself to education, Menasheh devoted himself to writing, with «The Conciliator» being one of his principal works. In it, Menasheh listed and discussed those passages of the Bible that presented conflict with each other. He wrote it in perfect Spanish, giving non-Jewish readers access to the rabbinic method of reconciling biblical inconsistencies, which opened his eyes to the Gentile intellectual world of the time.

Menasheh also studied Kabbalah and was particularly interested in the subject of the coming of the Messiah. He was convinced that for the Messiah to arrive and redeem the land of Israel, the Jews would first have to live scattered throughout the land. He took advantage of his reputation as a scholar to establish contact with Queen Christina of Sweden, under the pretext of helping her improve her knowledge of Hebrew, but ultimately, his goal was to allow Jews to settle in that country. His writings on the subject attracted the attention of Protestant theologians who also believed the Messiah would soon arrive, so he corresponded with some of them on the subject, especially the English Puritans.

Menasheh took advantage of this relationship to seek permission from the English government to allow Jews to settle in England again. He traveled to London in October 1655, and the first thing he did was write his «Humble Petition to the Lord Protector,» as Cromwell was known. The document was widely disseminated at the Whitehall conference convened by the Lord Protector, where it was concluded that there was no law prohibiting Jews from settling in England. Cromwell granted him permission to reside in England and assigned him a pension of 100 pounds per year. However, he was unable to receive it because he died in Amsterdam in 1657.

Menasheh ben Israel was a friend of Rembrandt, who painted his portrait. He was the teacher of Baruch Spinoza. He spoke ten languages ​​and wrote in five: Hebrew, Latin, Portuguese, English, and Spanish. He was a great educator, orator, printer, Kabbalist, and diplomat. He was undoubtedly a very special rabbi.

By Marcos Gojman:

Bibliography: Jewish Encyclopedia and other sources.

Hasidic Judaism is a Jewish religious movement that originated in Ukraine in the 18th century. The students of the Baal Shem Tov, the founder of the movement, spread it throughout Eastern Europe and established «courts,» groups of Hasidim led by a Tzadik, a spiritual leader. Over time, these «Hasidic courts» adopted a dynastic format, with a member of the founding leader’s family, usually a son, taking his place upon his death. By 1860, virtually all Hasidic courts were dynastic. Today, they are found mostly in Israel, the United States, and Great Britain, although they have also been established in other countries. After World War II, these groups adopted the name of their place of origin to distinguish themselves from one another. Hasidic groups are generally considered part of the ultra-Orthodox Jewish movement, known as the «Haredim.»

The largest Hasidic group currently is Satmar, founded by Rabbi Joel Teitelbaum (1887-1979) in 1905, in the town of the same name, formerly part of Hungary and now part of Romania. Some estimate it has around 65,000 to 75,000 adherents, although others speak of 120,000. After World War II, it was reestablished in New York City, first in Williamsburg and Brooklyn, and then expanded to Kiryas Joel. Upon the death of its founder, it was led by his nephew Moshe Teitelbaum. Upon his death in 2006, the dynasty remained divided, to this day, between Moshe’s two rival sons, Aaron and Zalman Teitelbaum.

The Holocaust hit the Hasidim particularly hard, easily identifiable among the rest of the population due to their dress and cultural insularity. Hundreds of Hasidic leaders perished along with their followers, but the flight of some leaders, especially at the very moment when their followers were being exterminated, provoked bitter recriminations, such as that of Joel Teitelbaum, who escaped to Switzerland, but not before assuring his parishioners that, thanks to their religiosity, they would be saved. A promise that obviously proved false.

Once in New York, Teitelbaum formulated a fierce anti-Zionist theology, based on a very particular explanation of the Holocaust. He said: «Because of our sins we have suffered greatly… and in our generation we need not look far to find the sin responsible for our calamity… The heretics (of the Haskala – Enlightenment and Zionism) have made every effort to violate these oaths, to ascend (to the land of Israel) by force, and to seize sovereignty and freedom for themselves, before the times appointed (by the Lord) arrive… [They] have lured the majority of the Jewish people into a horrible heresy, the likes of which has not been seen since the world was created… And so it is no wonder that the Lord struck with great divine wrath… And there were also righteous people who perished (in the Holocaust) because of the iniquity of the sinners.» Teitelbaum argued that until the sin (of creating the State of Israel) is removed, the Messiah will not come to redeem the Jewish people.

 Joel Teitelbaum didn’t invent anything new; he merely continued the thinking of the Hungarian ultra-Orthodox school initiated by the Chatam Sofer, which rejected modernity, opposed any change, and sought total separation from the outside world. It’s just the same old extremism.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: «Unorthodox» by Deborah Feldman and other sources.

Abraham Joshua Heschel, in his essay “A Time for Renewal,” asks: Who is a Jew? And he answers: “A person in whose life Abraham Avinu would feel at home, a person for whom Rabbi Akiva would feel a great affinity, a person of whom the Jewish martyrs of all ages would not be ashamed.” And he asks again: “Who is a Jew? A person whose integrity falters when unaffected by the knowledge that something wrong has been done to another person. A person for whom God is a challenge, not an abstraction. A person who knows how to remember and keep alive what is sacred in the history of his people and who treasures the promise and vision of a better world in the days to come.”

And Heschel asks again: how have we survived as a people when we had no power, no allies, no friends, no territory, no visible organization to keep us intact, loyal, and whole? And he answers: “The wisest answer to our survival lies in the saying that God, Israel, and the Torah are one.”

The problem, according to Heschel, lies when our Judaism is supported by only one of the three pillars. For classical Reform Judaism, the essence of Judaism is represented by ethical monotheism, and they do not attach importance to the Torah and Israel. For them, Jewish ethics are the true expression of Judaism, and their Jewish practice is centered on that paradigm. Although they now support and recognize the importance of the State of Israel in Jewish life, that is not what gives their Judaism its identity, much less fulfilling the mitzvot, since from the beginning they declared that fulfilling halacha is optional and not obligatory.

For secular Zionist Jews, Israel is the most important thing, and they put God and the Torah in the background. Virtually nothing related to religion is taught in their schools. The State of Israel is the most important thing, and the contribution of our sages to Jewish thought throughout history is seen as naive and simplistic. For them, true Judaism emerges when having a land becomes the most important factor in Jewish identity.

For ultra-Orthodox Jews, the most important thing is the Torah, which they equate with the Shulchan Aruch, a manual that lists in detail all the commandments that every Jew should follow and that leads them to a life where religious conduct is the only thing that matters. They forget the part of agadah, which represents the Jewish soul, which is at the heart of these commandments and is the message that God placed in the mouths of the biblical prophets. For ultra-Orthodox Jews, the existence of the State of Israel not only means nothing to their identity, but, on the contrary, diminishes it, to the point of opposing its existence.

The identity of the Conservative or Masorti Jew, from its beginnings, is based on a practice of halacha that does not forget aggadah, recognizes the importance of history in the evolution of the Jewish people, supports the existence of the State of Israel, and places ethical monotheism as a fundamental part of its identity. It is a Judaism that is supported by the three pillars: God, Israel, and the Torah. Without a doubt, Abraham Avinu, in the Masorti world, would feel right at home.

By: Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: “Moral Grandeur and Spiritual Audacity,” Essays by Abraham Joshua Heschel.

A.B. Yehoshua, in his article “Defining Who Is a Jew,” says: “To be Jewish, you don’t need to live in Israel, you don’t need to speak Hebrew, you don’t have to be formally part of a Jewish community, you don’t need to believe in the God of Israel and His Torah, and you don’t necessarily have to be the son of a Jewish mother. What, then, is being Jewish?” He continues: “It seems astonishing that a people that has existed for more than 3,200 years is still debating its self-definition.”

Halacha says that a Jew is a person born to a Jewish mother or who converted to Judaism. This was established at the end of the Second Temple period. A person is Jewish because their mother is or was Jewish. And this person is Jewish because their grandmother is or was Jewish. The problem arises when neither the daughter nor the granddaughter practices Judaism in any of its forms. Are they then Jewish?

Yehoshua says: Halacha defines a Jew strictly as part of a people, so Jewish is not equivalent to Christian, Buddhist, or Muslim, and yes to English, Norwegian, or Swiss. The sages decided to define Jewishness as a nationality and not as a religion. Two hundred years ago, they could have defined it as a religion, since practically all Jews of that time observed the commandments of the Torah, but they didn’t.

In the documentary film «Doing Jewish,» director Gabrielle Zikha tells us how she found, in the remote village of Sefwi Wiawso, Ghana, a group of people who for centuries practiced rites such as circumcision and eating with dietary laws equal to those of the Torah, and how this group had recently discovered that it was part of a people: the Jewish people. In the film, their leader, Alex Armah, tells us how his dream is to see his congregation officially recognized, in addition to knowing and understanding its history.

And Gabrielle Zikha asks: What truly makes someone considered Jewish? Does one have to be part of an accepted Jewish community, with a full-fledged synagogue and a formally educated rabbi, Or does believing and practicing Judaism, isolated in a small, humble hut, not qualify? Is an elaborate Seder in Montreal more authentic than a simple meal prepared with piety and devotion?

Raphael Patai, in his book «The Jewish Mind,» says that being Jewish is primarily a matter of feeling, of emotional commitment. And feeling Jewish can be the result of one or several factors, such as, for example: knowing oneself to be a descendant of the patriarch Abraham, practicing the Jewish religion, feeling part of the Jewish people, identifying with the State of Israel, having been affected by the Holocaust and antisemitism, being aware of Jewish history, among others. And Patai explains that the common denominator of all these Jewish «feelings» is that you acquire them through knowledge. But for Patai, that is not enough. He says that to be Jewish also requires that others consider you Jewish.

In short, to be Jewish requires two ingredients: knowing Judaism and belonging to a Jewish community. For the Conservative and Orthodox movements, being a child of A Jewish mother is essential to being considered Jewish. In reality, knowledge of Judaism and belonging to a community lie at its core.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: works cited.

We can simply define the concept of «identity» as the set of characteristics of a person that distinguish them from others. Therefore, Jewish identity is the set of Jewish characteristics of an individual that distinguish them from those who are not. However, the problem lies in how to compile this list of characteristics that would define someone as Jewish. Because apparently, the list drawn up by an ultra-Orthodox Jew would be very different from the list of a secular Jew, or a Zionist, or a Reform Jew, or a humanist, to name just a few.

When searching for an answer to the problem of what to include on this list, we come across the character of Leopold Bloom in the novel «Ulysses,» whom its author, James Joyce, characterizes as someone who knows he is descended from Jews, but who does not consider himself Jewish or practice Judaism. Professor Morton P. Levitt, referring to Leopold Bloom, one of the main characters in that novel, clearly describes him as not a very good Jew. In fact, halachically speaking, he wasn’t Jewish at all, since his mother was not Jewish and he was never circumcised. In the work, says Levitt, there is some suggestion that his mother may have been half-Jewish and that his father was a Hungarian Jew. But even if this were true and Bloom were three-quarters Jewish, he still lacks the necessary connection to his direct maternal line—that is, if his mother’s mother wasn’t Jewish, then neither is he.

Nevertheless, and despite the fact that in the novel Leopold Bloom denies being Jewish, Levitt says that Judaism is at Bloom’s very heart and is part of his identity. He bases his assertion on a number of Jewish references Bloom makes, many of which date back to his childhood as the son of an immigrant Jewish father from Szombathely, Hungary. And Levitt quotes Joyce: “Bloom solemnly reads from a scroll the list of his Jewish knowledge: Aleph, Beth, Gimel, Dalet, Aggadah, Tefillin, Kosher, Yom Kippur, Chanukah, Rosh Hashanah, Bnei Brith, Mitzvah, Matzot, Ashkenazim, Meshugah, Tallit.”

It’s incredible, but that short list on Bloom’s scroll includes what we might call the common denominator of any Jew’s identity. Let’s see: the letters of the Hebrew alphabet symbolize the sacred scriptures; agadah: its ethical content; tefillin: daily religious practice; kosher: Jewish practice in the home; Yom Kippur: our relationship with our fellow human beings; Hanukkah: our national sense of belonging; Rosh Hashanah: belonging to the Jewish world; Bnei Brith: participation in community organizations; mitzvah: God’s commandments; matzot: the Exodus from Egypt as the founding event of the Jewish people; Ashkenazim: the differences between Jewish groups; meshugah: Jewish folklore; and tallit: its connection to its history. All the different groups within Judaism share, to a greater or lesser extent, elements of Bloom’s list.

The talent of James Joyce is indisputable. In a novel as complex as Ulysses, he captured, in Leopold Bloom, that common denominator that defines the essence of being Jewish.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Morton P. Levitt: “The Greatest Jew of All”: James Joyce, Leopold Bloom and the Modernist Archetype.