Al Reguel Ajat

Emmanuel Levinas (1906-1995) was born in Kovno, Lithuania, to a middle-class Jewish family where Yiddish and Russian were spoken. He received a secular education in a Russian-speaking school and later entered a Jewish secondary school where he learned Hebrew. At 17, he moved to France to study at the University of Strasbourg and a few years later enrolled at the University of Freiburg, Germany, to study with Edmund Husserl and Martin Heidegger.

He returned to France, where, after earning his doctorate, he taught Jewish students from traditionalist families at the Ecole Normale Israelite Orientale in Paris. In 1930, he married Margarita Levi and became a French citizen in 1931. In 1939, already in the midst of the war, he was recruited by the French army as a Russian and German interpreter, but a year later he was taken prisoner, spending the entire war in a prisoner-of-war camp in Germany. Meanwhile, his friend Maurice Blanchot helped him secure refuge for his wife and daughter in a convent, thus avoiding the Holocaust, a fate that sadly eluded his relatives in Lithuania.

After the war, he was director of the École Normale Israelite until 1961, when he joined the University of Poitiers as a professor of philosophy. He then took a position at the University of Nanterre in 1967, and finally, in 1973, he was appointed professor at the Sorbonne.

As a philosopher after the war, Levinas dedicated his life and work to the reconstruction of ethical thought. Unlike his colleagues who were focused on the study of being, on «ontology,» he argued that the study of ethics was more important than knowing what «being» is. Levinas said that the purpose of Judaism was not to produce good Jews, but good human beings, and good Jewish human beings are therefore good Jews. Judaism’s mission in the world is to help produce a good and just humanity. Being religious is nothing other than this: kindness to others and a just world for all.

For Levinas, the truly religious person is one who makes ethics and justice their true purpose. They are the ones who put the mitzvot «ben adam lechavero,» the commandments between man and his neighbor, before the mitzvot «ben adam la makom,» the commandments between man and God. This «neighbor» is what Levinas calls «The Other.» For him, being a moral person is alleviating the suffering of «The Other» and being responsible for it without expecting reciprocity. Without «The Other,» man cannot be ethical. Tarzan becomes an ethical man until he meets Jane.

Levinas describes the religion of children as one in which we expect God to help us or save the innocent, where God is a dispenser of favors or a magician. Many people prefer the irresponsibility of children, who like to obey orders and be told what to do, as if such formality were all that God demands. On the other hand, adult religion is when humans accept their responsibility in the process of improving the world, without waiting for someone superior to command them. Childhood is one thing; adulthood—bar mitzvah—is another. In the Talmud and other Jewish texts, Levinas consistently discovers this call to moral responsibility and justice. For him, ethics is not only a component of Jewishness; it is Judaism at its highest.

By Marcos Gojman

Bibliography: Articles by Allan Brill, Peter Steinfels, Richard A. Cohen, Julia Urabayen, and others.

Albert Einstein, one of the most brilliant minds humanity has ever known, not only dedicated his time to the study of physics, but also to topics as diverse as the role of religion and its relationship to science. In an article he wrote for The New York Times magazine in November 1930, entitled «Religion and Science,» he stated the following:

What are the needs that have led men to think and believe in something? For primitive man, it was above all the fear of hunger, wild beasts, disease, and death. At that stage of humanity, the human mind imagined beings with superior powers, whose will was the one that decided whether these fearful events would occur or not. Therefore, man tried to secure the favor of these beings with actions and sacrifices that, according to the tradition of each group, would make them favorable to him. It was a religion of fear.

But in more advanced societies, the desire for guidance, love, and support led men to believe in a social or moral God. This is the God of Providence, who protects, eliminates, rewards, and punishes. The God who, from the believer’s perspective, loves and cares for the life of the tribe or, in this case, of humanity. The one who comforts when there is pain or unfulfilled longing. The one who preserves the souls of the dead. This is the social or moral conception of God.

The Jewish Bible admirably illustrates the transition from the religion of fear to the religion of morality. The religions of civilized peoples, in principle, are moral religions. Although truthfully speaking, all religions are a varied mixture of both types, with this distinction: that, at the higher levels of social life, the religion of morality predominates.

Einstein continues: There is a third stage of religious experience which I call the cosmic religious feeling. The individual realizes the futility of waiting for the favor of a Providential God and appreciates the sublime and marvelous order revealed both in nature and in the world of thought. The beginnings of cosmic religious sentiment already appear in many of the Psalms of David and in some of the sayings of the Prophets.

Religious geniuses of all times have distinguished themselves by their cosmic religious sentiment, which does not accept any dogma or a God conceived in the image of man. For Einstein, religion is the feeling of awe caused by contemplating the marvelous order of the universe and believing in a Creator of that order. For him, science and religion are not polar opposites, as many religions preach, but rather complementary. Science explains how the world works, and religion tells us where we should direct it. Science gave us nuclear energy, and the ethical values ​​of religion guide us to use it for peaceful and non-destructive purposes. As Einstein said: Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.

Compiled by: Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Albert Einstein, The World as I See It.

The ethical foundations of Judaism, the mitzvoth between man and his fellow man, «Ben Adam Lechavero,» are undoubtedly one of the pillars of Judaism. These values ​​were embodied in the Torah, reinforced by the prophets and biblical writings, commented on by the sages in the Mishnah, and discussed by the rabbis in the Talmud. An example is the following:

Mishna 1, chapter 9, of the Talmudic tractate Bava Batra says: «If a man dies and leaves sons and daughters, if the inheritance is of great value, then the sons inherit, but the daughters must be supported. And if the inheritance is modest, the daughters must be supported, and the sons may go begging.»

Rabbi Shlomo Ben Abraham HaCohen, known as the Maharshach (1420-1602), a native of Monastir, Macedonia, explains the scope of this mishna a thousand years later. In his book She’eilot U’teshuvot (Questions and Answers), the Maharshach addresses the following case: Reuven and his wife died in a plague. They left behind two orphaned daughters. The leaders of the community where Reuven and his wife had lived sent the orphans to another city where their uncles lived, who kindly welcomed their unfortunate relatives. The uncles sent a message to the community leaders, asking for Reuven and his wife’s assets in order to invest the funds and make some profit to support the girls. They pointed out that the girls were in need and that no one else was willing to help them.

The community leaders responded that they did not agree to sending the assets to the uncles, since Reuven had requested burial in the Holy Land, which was considered a great mitzvah. Therefore, they planned to use the assets to pay for the costs of transporting his remains to Eretz Yisrael. The uncles countered by arguing that the Mishnah in Bava Batra clearly teaches that if a man dies and leaves little property, those assets should be used to support his daughters. In this case, the father and mother had died leaving little property. Therefore, these assets should provide for the daughters’ support. No one had the right to take the assets and use them for another purpose.

Since the two parties could not agree, the dispute was brought before the Maharshah. The Maharshah ruled that, since only minimal assets remained, those assets should go to the daughters for their support. He pointed out that even if the father had explicitly said, «I do not want my property used to support my daughters after I die,» we would still not heed his instructions, since the Sages legislated that a person’s property must be used to provide for his daughters after his death. Even if they wish to use their property to fulfill a mitzvah, it does not take precedence over the laws of the Sages. Therefore, the Maharshah decided that the property should be sent to the uncles. The support of the daughters takes precedence over the mitzvah of being buried in the Land of Israel.

Both at the time the Mishnah was written and a thousand years later, caring for women is one of the ethical principles that remains in force, unlike changing customs. Ethical values ​​in Judaism are immune to the passage of time.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Various sources.

Sefer Ha’Agadah, the Book of Legends, is a compilation of Aggadot compiled by Hayim Nahman Bialik and Yoshua Hanna Ravnitzky beginning in 1903. They obtained most of them from the Mishnah, the Talmud, and many other sources. One example is the following:

The story is told of a king of Persia who was about to die. His doctors told him: «The only thing that can cure you is the milk of a lioness. Drink it and you will recover.» The king asked: Who can go get some lioness milk? One of them told him: «If you wish, I can go, but first you must give me ten kids.» They gave him the kids, and he went to a lion’s den where a lioness was licking her cubs. On the first day, he kept his distance and threw a kid to her, which she devoured. The second day, he moved a little closer and threw her another kid. He did this every day, and by the end of the ten days, he was so close to the lioness that he could play with her and stroke her nipples, which he took advantage of to express some milk and continue on his way.

Halfway home, the doctor fell asleep, and in his dream, he saw the parts of his body arguing with one another. The feet said, «Of all the parts of the body, there is none like us. If we hadn’t walked, the body wouldn’t have been able to get any milk.» The hands replied, «There is no part like us. If we hadn’t stroked the lioness, we wouldn’t have gotten any milk.» The eyes argued, «We are more important than you. If we hadn’t shown you the way, none of this would have been achieved.» Then the heart spoke, «I am worth more than any of you. If I hadn’t advised you, you wouldn’t have succeeded in your task.»

Finally, the tongue spoke and said, “I am more valuable than any of you. If it weren’t for speech, what would you have done?” At that point, all the parts of the body united and responded to the tongue. How dare you compare yourself to us, you who are housed in a dark and lonely place? The tongue replied, “Today you will recognize my power.”

The man woke up and, without forgetting his dream, continued on his way. When he arrived with the king, he said, “Here is the dog’s milk I got you. Drink it.” The king was enraged and ordered the doctor to be hanged. On the way to the gallows, all the parts of the body trembled. Then the tongue said to them, “Did I not tell you that there was nothing of substance in you? If I save you now, will you admit that I have power over you?” They all nodded. At that, the tongue said to the executioner, “Take me back to the king,” to whom it said, “Why are you punishing me? Lionesses can also be called bitches. Take the milk.” The king drank it and was healed. The doctor went away in peace, and the body parts accepted the power of the tongue. It is written in Proverbs 18:21: “Death and life are in the power of the tongue. And whoever loves it will eat its fruit.” (M. Yalkut)

In the introduction to the book, Bialik and Ravnitzky say: “The Aggadah is the principal literary form of the Jewish people, the most classic expression of their spirit. It is the product of the creative force of many generations of rabbis. It is like a beautiful palace where the Jewish spirit and soul permanently reside.”

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Sefer Ha Aggadah, compiled by Hayim Nahman Bialik and Yoshua Hanna Ravnitzky.

Identity is the way individuals and groups of people define themselves vis-à-vis others. Professor Yedidia Z. Stern explains that Jewish identity, like many others, is made up of religious, national, social, and cultural elements. Previously, these elements were fully integrated, but two major changes in modern Jewish history have disrupted that integration. The first is the secularization of Judaism. For more than two centuries, being religious has ceased to be important for a significant group of the Jewish people. The second change is the State of Israel. For the first time, the Jewish people are a majority in a place where Jewish politics are discussed, people serve in a Jewish army, live within a Jewish legal system, and all of this occurs within a Jewish public space.

But Professor Stern points out that Israeli society, and the Jewish people in general, are experiencing a kind of cultural dualism. On the one hand, there is traditional Jewish culture, based primarily on religion, and on the other, there is the secular liberal identity, defined by national, social, and cultural factors. Israeli President Reuben Rivlin, in a famous speech he gave in June 2015, commented that Israeli Jewish society is divided into three main groups: the ultra-Orthodox, the Religious Zionists, and the secularists. Stern says that each of them has chosen a different path to resolve the problem of cultural dualism, although all share, to a greater or lesser degree, elements of both cultures.

The ultra-Orthodox group has opted for the religious component of traditional Jewish culture, and therefore seeks to isolate themselves from the secular society that surrounds them, as they constitute «God’s little domain on Earth» and do not want any integration with other groups. However, this isolation is relative, as they live within a secular society and take advantage of what that society offers, although they minimize their participation in it. On the contrary, secularists have opted for Western liberal culture and have abandoned the ancient Jewish traditions, which are absent in their education, their art, their philosophy, and in general, in all aspects of their lives. Nevertheless, secularists experience their Judaism by speaking Hebrew, using the Jewish calendar, commemorating the holidays in their own way, etc.

The third group, the religious Zionists, function in both cultures, but without blending them. When it comes to education, studying Torah, or discussing philosophical problems, they are in traditional Jewish culture. When it comes to learning a trade, working, going to a show or the market, they are in secular culture. Their identity functions in both cultures without integrating them.

President Rivlin failed to mention a fourth group who, although small, are the only ones who have managed to merge the two cultures. They are traditionalist Jews who celebrate the holidays without being observant and who enjoy non-religious Jewish culture. Liberal movements such as Conservative and Reform Judaism belong to this group. Can one survive as a Jew being only secular or only religious? It seems not, since in reality, no group is 100% secular or 100% religious.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Yedidia Z. Stern: Religion, State, and the Jewish Identity Crisis in Israel.

Since the establishment of the State of Israel, three new dates have been added to the Jewish calendar. The first is Yom Ha’atzmaut, Israel’s Independence Day, which is preceded by Yom Hazikaron, the day that commemorates fallen soldiers and victims of terrorism. The third is Yom Yerushalayim, the day that celebrates the unification of Jerusalem in 1967. All three are observed as national holidays in Israel and recognized worldwide by the majority of the Jewish people.

The national holiday nature of Yom Ha’atzmaut is clear, and the way it is celebrated, especially in Israel, is similar to how any country celebrates its national holiday. But from a religious perspective, for many Jews, the creation of the Jewish state is an event of epic proportions, which should be celebrated as a holiday on par with Passover, Sukkot, or Rosh Hashanah. In Israel’s early years, the rabbinate decided that this day should be commemorated in the synagogue by reciting the Hallel (Psalms of praise) and reading a special haftarah, a text taken from one of the Bible’s books of the prophets. But for the religious Zionist movement in Israel, this was not enough, and they created a special prayer book (machzor) to celebrate Independence Day. Later, the prayer «Al Hanisim,» «For miracles,» said on Purim and Hanukkah, was included in the day’s liturgy. For its part, the Masorti (Conservative) movement integrated Yom Ha’atzmaut into its religious commemorations and published a Haggadah designed to bring the celebration into the home. The Reform movement, in 1970, reaffirmed that: «Yom Ha’atzmaut, Israel’s Independence Day, is a permanent holiday in our religious calendar.»

But it is not a holiday for everyone. For some Jews, generally ultra-Orthodox, the creation of Israel is not a central moment in modern Jewish history, and they do not celebrate Yom Ha’atzmaut. Some even view its creation as a sin, since the Jewish people did not wait for the Messiah to bring them back to the Land of Israel. On the other hand, the secular population in Israel celebrates it with outings and excursions, conferences, family education programs, and forums for dialogue.

Esti Moskovitz-Kalman tells us: “Jewish holidays and celebrations allow us to instill and enrich Jewish memory and values ​​through collective experiences. These experiences are collective, as many symbolic actions are carried out in public, whether at home or in the community, and are global and coincidental, as they take place all over the world at the same time.” Professor Moskovitz comments that every celebration has a central theme, and for her, Yom Ha’atzmaut celebrates what Hatikvah, Israel’s national anthem, says: «Lihiyot Am Jofshi b’Artzenu,» meaning to be a free people in our land.

There are many ways to celebrate Yom Ha’atzmaut, and the way will depend on what the date represents for each of us. But rather than worrying about how to celebrate it, we must remember why.

By Marcos Gojman

Bibliography: Robbie Gringras and Esti Moskovitz-Kalman: «Chag Ha’atzmaut, Blueprints for the Jewish Festival of Independence» and other sources.

On June 19, 1947, David Ben-Gurion, chairman of the executive branch of the Jewish Agency, wrote to the ultra-Orthodox group Agudat Israel, promising them four things: first, that Shabbat would be the official day of rest of the future Jewish State; second, that all kitchens in official institutions of the Jewish State would be kosher according to the halachic rules of Orthodox Judaism; third, that all matters related to marriage and divorce for the Jewish population of the state would be governed by the rabbinical courts (for other groups, by their respective religious authorities); and fourth, that there would be complete autonomy in educational matters for all the different social and religious groups.

Several factors prompted Ben-Gurion to write the letter. The first was to present a united front on the Jewish side before the United Nations Special Committee on Palestine (UNSCOP). Ben-Gurion was afraid that ultra-Orthodox groups would express their opposition to the establishment of an independent Jewish state to UN envoys.

The second was that it was the prevailing custom in the country. Under Ottoman rule, religious courts had the authority to decide on personal matters, such as marriage or divorce. The British Mandate adopted the same Turkish system, and in 1948 the Israeli government decided to maintain it. The reasoning was that if civil marriage or divorce were adopted, the rabbinical courts would not accept it, and the children of such marriages would be discriminated against by the rabbinate.

Another factor that shaped the relationship between the government and the religious establishment was the fact that after the Holocaust, all the major centers of Jewish learning in Europe, the yeshivots, had been destroyed, and Ben-Gurion set out to revive them. In Israel, in 1948, there were only 400 ultra-Orthodox men left, so he exempted them from military service and work, as the government would support them so they could dedicate themselves fully to Torah study. Ben-Gurion and many like him believed that, despite these concessions, this group would not survive.

Israel never proclaimed a constitution that would enshrine all of this in law or, if necessary, repeal it. What they call the «status quo» in Israel (maintaining the same state of affairs) long gave these policies a binding force and has been one of the causes of the divisions within the Jewish people, especially among Israelis.

Ben-Gurion had serious clashes with ultra-religious groups. He once wrote to Rabbi Judah L. Maimon, who was Israel’s first minister of religious affairs, about what for Ben-Gurion defined being Jewish: Psalm 15. Psalm 15 defines one who «dwells in the Tabernacle of the Lord as an individual who is righteous, speaks the truth, does not slander or do any other evil to his neighbor, does not reproach his neighbor, despises a vile person, fears the Lord, testifies sincerely even if it pains him to do so, does not lend money for interest or take bribes from the innocent.» And Ben-Gurion asked, «Why should someone who observes Shabbat and Kashruth be considered Jewish, but someone who lives according to the Psalmist’s definition not?»

Deep down, Ben-Gurion understood that the vast majority of the Jewish people define their Judaism as both a nationality and a religion. Personally, he would have liked it to be defined solely as a nation, but that wasn’t possible. That’s why he wrote the letter to the Haredim.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Yedidia Z. Stern: “Religion, State, and the Jewish Identity Crisis in Israel” and other sources.

The Jewish calendar is full of commemorative dates. The Torah commands us to celebrate Shabbat, Rosh Chodesh, Passover, Sukkot, Shmini Atzeret, Shavuot, Rosh Hashanah, and Yom Kippur. Later, the rabbis added Purim, Simchat Torah, Hanukkah, Tu Bishvat, Lag B’Omer, and the commemoration of Tisha b’Av, the day that commemorates the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem.

For many years, the list remained unchanged. It wasn’t until the second half of the 20th century that new dates were added to the calendar, which are associated with the two great events that marked the history of the Jewish people in that century: the Holocaust and the rebirth of the State of Israel.

«Yom Hashoa ve Hagevura» is the day that commemorates the Holocaust and the heroism of those who fought against barbarism. In 1951, the Israeli parliament designated the 27th of Nisan to commemorate the Jewish uprising in the Warsaw ghetto. They had originally considered the 13th of Nisan, the day when German forces began the systematic and total destruction of the ghetto, but opted for the 27th so as not to interfere with the holiday of Passover.

The commemoration of Yom Hashoah begins the day before with ceremonies and remembrance events in all spheres of Israeli society. The following day in Israel, the sound of sirens stops traffic for two minutes, and radio and television stations broadcast commemorative programs all day long. Following the same pattern, non-Orthodox Jewish communities around the world adopted the same day to commemorate the Holocaust. In their synagogues, commemorative texts are read, one or more lamps are lit in memory of the six million victims, and the Maale Rahamim and Kaddish, prayers related to death, are recited. In 1988, the Reform movement published «Six Days of Destruction,» a text written by Elie Wiesel and Rabbi Albert Friedlander, which is read in synagogue on that day as a «Megillah.» Similarly, the Conservative movement created «Megillat HaShoah,» a text developed by a group of rabbis led by Professor Avigdor Shinan, which contains survivor accounts written in a biblical style. Some Orthodox communities, meanwhile, have included the remembrance of the victims of the Shoah on traditional minor fast days, such as the 11th of Tevet, although they do not include any special prayers on that day.

Creating a new commemoration in the Jewish calendar is not simple. All significant dates have gone through a process that has involved adjustments and changes, giving each one its present form. The form has changed, as celebrating Passover today is different from how it was two thousand years ago. But in all cases, the underlying message is the same. The message of Yom Hashoah, and especially what the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising meant, has implications for the Jewish people, both from a national perspective, as their very existence was in danger, and from a religious perspective, as it tested their relationship with the Creator.

Yom Hashoah can have a national character, as they do in Israel, it can have a religious character, as is the case in most synagogues around the world, or it can have both. However, what is important is not so much the form as the substance: remembering the Holocaust is what matters.

By Marcos Gojman

Bibliography: Various sources

David M. Gitlitz and Linda Kay Davidson, in their book “Pilgrimage and the Jews,” address the topic of Jewish pilgrimages. And they ask: Are pilgrimages like those Catholics who go to Lourdes or Fatima to seek a cure for their illness? Well, many Jews go to Rachel’s Tomb or the Tomb of the Patriarchs in search of a cure. Like Muslims who go to Mecca? Jews from all over the world come to Jerusalem to pray at the Western Wall. Like those who go to the tombs of saints like St. Francis of Assisi? Many Jews make annual pilgrimages to the tombs of their rebbes, like Elimelech of Lezhansk, Poland, or Menachem Mendel Schneerson in Queens. Like the Indians who go to Varanasi on the banks of the Ganges River to die? For hundreds of years, elderly Jews have made the journey to Jerusalem to die and be buried on the Mount of Olives.

Gitlitz and Davidson say: “A pilgrimage is literally a journey to a place charged with meaning. That meaning can be very varied, but pilgrimages with a religious theme are especially notable, operating under three premises: first, that there is an invisible power, far greater than ourselves, that takes an active role in shaping our lives; second, that humans can connect with that power; and third, that that power is especially accessible in certain privileged places.”

Already in biblical times, the Israelites were obligated to make pilgrimages. The Torah states that every adult male was required to visit the Temple in Jerusalem three times: on Passover, Shavuot, and Sukkot. This was done while the Temple existed, both the first and second, but with the destruction of the latter, this practice was canceled. The Talmud, for its part, speaks little on the subject, and nowhere do the rabbis command pilgrimages, with the exception of going to Jerusalem on the three holy days.

Norman Solomon says that while the Talmudic sages did not encourage pilgrimages, Jewish folk customs did, focusing on visiting the tombs of patriarchs, prophets, and sages. The list, which is quite long, includes the Cave of Machpelah in Hebron, the tomb of the prophet Ezekiel in Iraq, the tomb of Shimon bar Yochai in Meron, the tomb of Rabbi David uMoshe in Morocco, and the tomb of Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav in Uman, Ukraine, among others.

The pilgrimage to Uman is particularly notable. Every Rosh Hashanah, tens of thousands of Hasidim visit the tomb of Rebbe Nachman of Breslov, in the ancient Jewish cemetery. Before his death, the Rebbe promised to intercede for anyone who came to pray at his grave on Rosh Hashanah, «even the worst of sinners.» And his followers visit it, hoping he will keep his promise.

Pilgrimages are a universal phenomenon. Many have a religious theme, but there are also «secular» ones, such as «The March of Life» that visits Auschwitz. Some seek personal benefit, like the pilgrimage to Uman, others a more spiritual connection. But in any case, for better or worse, the pilgrimage is a journey that changes you.

By Marcos Gojman:

Bibliography: David M. Gitlitz and Linda Kay Davidson «Pilgrimage and the Jews,» Norman Solomon «Jewish Pilgrimage and Peace,» and other sources.

The Torah tells us, in Genesis 23, that Sarah died at the age of 127 in Kiryat Arba, today Hebron. Upon her death, Abraham spoke to the sons of Heth to ask for a place to bury her. He wanted the Cave of Machpelah, which belonged to one of them, Efron son of Zohar. He sold it to Abraham for 400 shekels of silver. Genesis tells us in 25:9 that Abraham was buried next to his wife, and in 49:31, Jacob, on his deathbed, tells his sons that he had buried his parents Isaac and Rebekah and his wife Leah in that cave. Jacob was also buried there by his sons. Many years later, to gain the support of the Jews, Herod the Great (second half of the 1st century BCE) built a rectangular enclosure to surround the Cave of Machpelah, which is one of the few Herodian structures preserved from the time of Hellenistic Judaism. Herod’s building, with 6-foot-thick stone walls, had no roof. Archaeologists are unsure where the original entrance to the enclosure was located or even if there was one.

During the Byzantine Empire, a Christian basilica was built at the southeast end of the building, and the enclosure was roofed everywhere except in the center. The Pilgrim Piacenza (c. 570) reports that Jews and Christians shared possession of the site. In 614, the Persians conquered the area and destroyed the basilica, leaving it in ruins.

In 637, the area came under Arab control, and the building was rebuilt as a roofed mosque. In 1100, after the area was captured by the Crusaders, the compound once again became a church, and Muslims were no longer allowed to enter. During this period, the building was given a new gabled roof, windows, and a vault.

Toward the end of the Crusader period, in 1166, Maimonides visited Hebron and wrote: «On Sunday, the 9th of Marheshvan, I left Jerusalem to go to Hebron to kiss the graves of my ancestors in the cave. I was in the cave and prayed, praise be to God, in gratitude for everything.» In 1170, Benjamin of Tudela visited the site. He wrote: «Here is the great church called St. Abram, and this was a Jewish place of worship during the time of Muslim rule, but the Gentiles have erected six monuments, respectively named those of Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca, Jacob and Leah.»

In 1188, Saladin conquered the area, converting the compound into a mosque but allowing Christians to continue worshipping there. At the end of the 14th century, the Mamluks banned Jews and Christians from entering the site. They added two minarets, wall decorations, and a marble facade. The ban on access to Jews and Christians lasted 700 years, until 1967.

For Judaism, the Tomb of the Patriarchs is the second holiest site, after the Western Wall in Jerusalem. More than 300,000 people visit it annually. The structure is divided into three halls: Ohel Abraham, Ohel Yitzhak, and Ohel Yaakov. Currently, Jews are not allowed access to Ohel Yitzhak, the largest hall, except for 10 days a year. No one is allowed access to the cave itself. The troubled history of the Cave of Machpelah reflects the problematic relationship that exists to this day between the three religions that trace their origins to the patriarch Abraham. Unfortunately, the site could have become the best example of the three religions’ coexistence.

By Marcos Gojman.

Bibliography: Encyclopaedia Judaica and other sources.