Judaism On The Fringes
(Nov /
Dec 2005)
A review/essay of the book Acts of Faith: A Journey to the Fringes of Jewish Identity, St. Martin's Press, New York, 1982.
While perusing the shops and bazaars of Tijuana several
years ago, I was struck by the number of medallions on sale with a six-pointed
"Mogen Dovid." I gently inquired as to their significance, but
was told that they were "just ornaments that people like to wear."
But I couldn't escape the thought that there was a deeper significance
to their design.
I was similarly struck when I got the chance to visit the "Red Fort"
in Agra, India. This sprawling complex began to be built in the 10th century
as a simple fortress protecting access to the Yumana River, and was later
fortified by the Muslim leader Akbar. During the tour, I noticed very
large six-pointed stars, together with crosses and other religious symbols,
on several buildings. During the seventeenth century, Shah Jahan, the
famed builder of the Taj Mahal, and later his son Aurangzeb, were Muslim
rulers in what is now very Hindu India. Shah Jahan was a prolific builder
(the "Red Fort" served as his palace and also his prison), and
fairly tolerant of surrounding religions and cultures. Were these symbols,
so prominently displayed within the architecture of the fort, placed there
as a sign of his tolerance? "No, they are just artistic designs,"
our guide told us. But I couldn't escape the thought that there was something
more to the six-pointed star I was looking at-something very Jewish.
In 1982, Dan Ross wrote a book about communities on the fringes of Jewish identity, Acts of Faith-A Journey to the Fringes of Jewish Identity (St. Martin's Press). Those communities include "Jewish Indians" of Mexico, Moslem Jews of Turkey, Chinese Jews of Kaifeng, Falashas of Ethiopia, the Bene Israel of Bombay, as well as Karaites, Samaritans, and Marranos. Ross describes all of these communities in detail; I summarize some below. But the terms "Jew", or "Jewish" is really the point in question. I have come across few books that so eloquently describe the questions "what or who is a Jew?" as this one.
One's identity is an amalgamation of self-realization, group association, and other's opinions, and these three elements are often in conflict with one another. The stories in Ross' book explore these conflicts as they apply to "Jewish" identity, without providing any hard-and-fast answers. Ross relates the facts surrounding the communities he describes, as they were known at the time of the book's publication, and then leaves it to the reader to draw the larger conclusions.
My query into the significance of the six-pointed stars in Tijuana notwithstanding, there is a Jewish connection to Mexico-just not the one I expected. I expected to find that a significant proportion of the population in Mexico were descended from "secret" Jews, fleeing the Inquisition in Spain and Portugal, but my research for my essay "The Jews of Sepharad" [Outlook, Jan./Feb. 2003-eds.] did not produce the numbers I had expected. The few Jews who did escape the Inquisition initially did not do so for long. The Inquisition followed them to Mexico. While there are certainly some in Mexico who have reconnected with their Jewish past in Spain and Portugal, and there may be more in the future, the vast majority of Jews in Mexico are Ashkenazi Jews, who found their way to Mexico to avoid persecution or death at home. But Ross followed a different path to find Jews in Mexico. He started with a well-known travel brochure, and a few obscure articles printed in the 1930's, referring to a community of "Indian Jews" living in a small rural town in the State of Hidalgo called Venta Prieta. The folklore indicated that conversos had intermarried with native inhabitants, and the result was a community of Indian, or mestizo, Jews.
As Ross describes them, "they were neither Indian or
Jewish," at least according to the definitions of the time. They
did not practice circumcision, and did not follow a liturgy that would
be familiar to other Jews-just a mixture of prayers in Spanish and occasionally
Hebrew, mixed with Christian hymms. The only thing that really distinguished
them from their non-Jewish neighbors was that they attended their services
on Friday night and Saturday morning, and observed Jewish holidays. Yet
they were considered Jews by the Catholic inhabitants of Venta Prieta,
and most importantly, by themselves.
Ross found that the Jewish community of Venta Prieta were actually converts
from a fundamentalist Protestant sect, Iglesia de Dios (Church of God),
and rather recently at that. After a series of disputes, the church leader,
Laureano Ramirez, began calling himself a Jew, and the congregation followed.
Without a technically Jewish liturgy, circumcision, kosher butchering,
or even a rabbi, this tiny community began to follow their own idea of
Judaism. In their minds, and those of their neighbours, they were Jews.
In the eyes of the Jewish establishment in Mexico City they were not.
Being Jewish in mind and spirit was enough for a few liberal rabbis would
eventually take up their cause, but the Jewish establishment refused to
accept the Jews of Venta Prieta without official conversion.
There can be no dispute on their current status as Jews, formal conversion
having been performed for those who requested it starting in 1968, but
their status before then was much in question. If they considered themselves
Jews, if their neighbors considered them Jews, where they Jews? It seems
that often we all too quickly relinquish the right to answer that question,
and surrender it to the Jewish "establishment"-especially religious
authorities-whom we believe have a greater understanding of who is and
who is not Jewish. But as we readily acknowledge, these authorities are
themselves engaged in ongoing debate on the subject.
The plight of the Portuguese "Marranos" , as related by Ross, is quite different. Victims of the Inquisition, their heritage and connection to old, traditional Jewish communities cannot be denied, but the brutal realities of religious politics over the centuries have caused a rupture between traditional Jewish rituals and customs, and those practiced by this still secret community. Publicity over the last few decades has done little to bring these small rural communities into the open as Jews, and their traditions die hard. They are baptized Catholics, uncircumcised, they eat pork, and when they die there is a mass said in the local Catholic Church. Nevertheless, they profess to be Jews, follow the Sabbath and light the Sabbath lamps. If you are forced to practice your Judaism in secret for generations, will the traditional Jewish community welcome you as a Jew when you feel safe enough to acknowledge your identity publicly? The answer here is no. "Marranos" must submit to a reconversion process, including circumcision, mikva, and interrogation from rabbis. But if they had undergone circumcision as part of their secret ritual, would they still need to undergo reconversion? Maybe not. The only outward indicator of Jewish ancestry is circumcision, but the same applies to Islam and some African societies. If a circumcised male professes to be Jewish, it may be very difficult to prove otherwise, although some traditional Jewish authorities may require birth documents to substantiate the claim.
Ross also writes about the remnants of a Jewish community in Majorca, also victims of the Inquisition. The difference between this community and the Portuguese "Marranos" is that the Majorcan community, known locally as Chuetas, does not claim to be Jews. The only remnants of their Jewish ancestry are their surnames. For about 400 years, possessing one of about 15 old Jewish surnames has led to persecution by the surrounding community.
There once was a prosperous Jewish community on Majorca, but anti-Jewish riots, beginning in 1391, eventually forced all Jews to convert or die. By about 1440, Judaism was declared illegal on Majorca. The conversions held, and the descendants of the former Jews have become, in all manners and observances, loyal, practicing Catholics, but many in the Catholic community don't see it that way. After the ban on Judaism, the Inquisition still rooted out suspected conversos. In 1691, a group of suspected Jews were killed in the autos-da-fe, and in 1693 the Grand Inquisitor ordered the names of those burned to be inscribed on the walls of the church. This act sealed the fate of everyone who happened to possess one of the surnames listed on the walls. Ironically, modern persecution has caused some to reconnect with the faith of their ancestors, which unfortunately has fueled further persecution.
The Spanish expulsion was not the only event that led to the creation of communities of "secret Jews." Ross also tells of the Mashadi community in Northern Iran. where Jews were invited to live in the 1700's by Nadir Shah, and were faced with forced conversion to Islam or death less than 100 years later. It was easier to practice circumcision and follow the Jewish Sabbath in an Islamic country (since circumcision is also practiced in Islam, and hence more widespread), but no less dangerous. The converts were known as "jadid al-Islam", or "New Moslems", and were not trusted. Many left the country, but others chose to stay and practice Judaism in secret, having two sets of wedding contracts, two burial services, etc. Folklore tells of "jadid al-Islam" making the hajj (pilgrimage to Mecca) while concealing tefillin and small prayer shawls. On their return, they would be given titles of honour, and even held ceremonial positions at religious sites. The alphabet of the "jadid al-Islam" was Hebrew script. Eventually most Mashadi left Iran for India, England, Italy, U.S. and Israel.
The word "Donmeh" means "convert" in Turkish, and refers to a Jewish fringe community in Turkey, but Jews prefer to call them minim -heretics. They were initially followers of Shabbatai Zevi, the seventeenth-century false Messiah, and lived in and around Salonica, Greece as Jews. Salonica was a prosperous Jewish city, with Jews representing a majority of the population until 1912. It became home to many Jewish exiles from Spain, and became the centre of Jewish learning after the expulsion from Spain in 1492. The intellectual and material decline of the Jewish community came in the 1600's, due in large part to the agitation surrounding Shabbatai Zevi. Zevi believed himself to be the long-awaited Messiah, and many Jews believed and followed him, eventually into Islam.
Zevi converted to Islam under threat of execution in Turkey.
As a result, a number of his followers also converted to Islam, while
continuing to practice Judaism in secret, in a bizarre sort of holy imitation
of their Messiah. Zevi's abrupt departure from the theological scene left
the "Donmeh" in limbo between their Jewish heritage and their
desire to faithfully imitate Zevi. They resembled the Iberian conversos
insofar as they combined a secret observance of Judaism (or parts of it)
with an outward observance of another religion, but their reasons for
doing so were obviously very different.
After World War I, when Moslems were required to leave Greece for Turkey,
the Donmeh petitioned the courts to be allowed to stay in Greece on the
grounds that they were really "secret Jews." They were never
really Moslems, but practiced some derivation of Judaism, acknowledging
Shabbatai Zevi and others as prophets. But their argument did not prevail,
and by 1924, the last of the Donmeh had arrived in Turkey, where they
were never trusted by the Moslem population, and never completely integrated
into Turkish society, although under Turkish law they were considered
"Moslem", with the same rights and privileges as other Turks.
Unofficially, Moslems considered them Jews, and Jews considered them Moslems,
but it seems fortuitous that they were forced to leave Salonica. During
World War II, more than 90 percent of Salonica's Jews were murdered. While
Ross depicts a dead or rapidly dying community, searches on the internet
reveal a renewed interest in the Donmeh, and particularly a new Donmeh
philosophy incorporating neo-Sabbatain thought. Jacob Frank, whose movement
incorporated Sabbatian thought in the 1730's, was appealing to many Jews
in and around Russia, and Frank's followers eventually followed him into
Christianity, in much the same way as the Donmeh had followed Zevi into
Islam.
Samaritans are Jews who acknowledge the authority of the first five books of Moses, but reject the rest of the Bible and all other works. The split off from traditional Judaism over 2000 years ago, but still survive as a community. They consider themselves Israelites, not Jews. Ross declares that "they can be thought of as Jewish fundamentalists", and perhaps they can. Historically, they were the remnants of the northern kingdom of Israel, and rebelled against the prerogative of Judea to focus all Hebrew worship in Jerusalem. Samaritans believe their religion is rooted in the original Israelite religion, and accept their rejection by the Jewish community.
Karaites accept the entire Bible, but not the Talmud or later writings. During World War II, the Nazis determined that the Karaites were descended from the Tartar tribes around the Crimea, and therefore did not consider them "racially" Jewish. Thus they were mostly spared the horrors of the Holocaust. But the Karaite rabbis insist that they were always Jews, who just happened to be located around the Crimea.
Jews have been living in China for over a thousand years, with the first synagogue built around 1200. But it wasn't until the 1400s that Jews were able to fully integrate into Chinese society, in Kaifeng, having been granted permission to take Chinese names at that time. The Chinese Jews were able to pass the Chinese civil service exams required to become a mandarin and hold a government job. A mandarin by the name of Chao Ying-ch'eng, whose Hebrew name was Moses ben Abram, actually became assistant governor of Fukein Province. Unfortunately, integration into Chinese society couldn't sustain a Jewish community without contact with foreign Jews. By 1850, only a handful of Jews remained committed to the faith. In 1980, a UPI reporter visited Kaifeng and found a few dozen people who knew they were descended from Jews, but retained no knowledge of the faith of their ancestors.
Today, as we attempt to define and redefine our identity
as Jews, we are confronted with new questions: Is circumcision really
required? Can you be a Jew and believe that Jesus was the Messiah? Are
kashruth, kippah, tallis and prayer required? Do you have to believe in
God? Acts of Faith: A Journey to the Fringes of Jewish Identity, describes
how other societies and communities have answered these tough questions.
Today we still allow those answers to be determined for us by others,
but will that always be the case?
A friend of mine was born and baptized a Christian, but eventually lost
any connection to or feeling for Christianity. In his quest for a philosophy
and spirituality that appealed to his sensibilities, he came across the
Humanistic Jewish movement, and eventually helped found a community. His
spiritual connection is now to the Jewish people, but without the sanction
of those whom we have allowed to determine our identity he will remain
outside the Jewish community. But I will always regard him as nothing
less than a fellow Jew. I extend an invitation for others to explore the
blurred fringes of Jewishness, and to remain open-minded.