The Flowers of Autumn

The High Holy Days have been and gone, and I completely forgot about my promise to write about my trip to London. So much has happened since then, that the short break in the city of my birth has more or less faded from memory. Apart from two excellent plays (“Boudicca” at Shakespeare’s Globe and “Queen Anne” at the Theatre Royal in the Haymarket), I have very little to report – other than lazy days in Regent’s Park and Hyde Park, and the inevitable visits to the National Gallery, the Tate Modern and the British Museum.

But now autumn is upon us, with a wealth of new activities – from the start of the fourth and final year of the Bible course I am taking (see previous posts, under the tag 929), through the start of a new course intriguingly entitled “Love and Death in Classical Music”,  to the opening of the 2017/18 season of field trips offered by Yad Ben Zvi. As my faithful readers know, for the past two years, I have been taking part in field trips linked to the 929 Bible Study project. This year, I decided to try something different and signed up for a series of field trips focusing on Israel’s many wildflowers.

On November 1st, we set our faces north,  to Israel’s Carmel Coast. We visited two sites. The first was the Nachal Taninim Nature Reserve. The literal translation of Nachal Taninim (נחל תנינים) is “Crocodile Stream” , but don’t be alarmed. It’s been over a hundred years since the last crocodile was sighted there. Some historians believe that crocodiles were imported in the Roman period, to be used in the gladiatorial combats held at nearby Caesarea. Zoologists, on the other hand, consider the crocodiles to be the remnant of a tropical ecosystem which existed in the Land of Israel over two million years ago. But a local tradition holds that there was once was a  king of Caesarea who had two sons. The elder was a leper who used to go every day to bathe in the river, hoping thus to be cured. After their father died, leaving his kingdom to the joint rule of the brothers, the younger, who wished to be the sole ruler, secretly brought crocodiles to the river . When the older brother went down to the stream to bathe in its waters, the crocodiles attacked and devoured him, leaving his younger brother as the sole heir to the throne. This is how, according to local legend, the crocodiles  were introduced to the region.  Be that as it may – Yours Truly didn’t see any crocodiles 😉  .

What we did see was the partially reconstructed remains of the ancient Roman water-system which brought the precious liquid from Nachal Taninim to the great coastal city of  Caesarea, to the south.  One can also see the remains of Byzantine-era flour mills and Ottoman additions to the waterworks.

Roman dam at Nachal Taninim



Here you can see a reconstruction of a Byzantine water wheel in action:



While we did not see any of the crocodiles after whom the river is named, we did see many birds, although most of them were wheeling high in the sky above our heads.  The Nachal Taninim Nature Reserve is home to egrets, herons, storks, pelicans, ibis, sandpipers and many other bird species. There are also different varieties of gulls, attracted by the fishponds of nearby Kibbutz Ma’agan Michael – to the chagrin of the fish-breeders, it must be said – as well as other wildlife, such as turtles, catfish and other fish, frogs and sea-otters, to name but a few. Honesty compels me to admit that, with the exception of a single catfish, I saw no wildlife other than birds.


P1030444Pelicans above Nachal Taninim

P1030445At Nachal Taninim


However, it was the flora which we had come to observe – in particular, narcissi and Steven’s meadow-saffron, which grow in abundance on the Carmel coast and are in full bloom at the start of autumn.



There were also late blooming sea squills, (urginea maritima), still showing a few blossoms, although as the first herald of autumn, the squill usually blooms in September and October. The white flowers are arranged along a stalk which can grow as high as 1.8 metres, and they do not blossom all at once. Starting from the bottom, each day a group of flowers opens, about 30 flowers at a time, immediately above the previous day’s blossom, which then wilts and dies. Since few flowers bloom in autumn, the squill does not have to compete with so many rivals for pollinating insects. The downside is that at this time of year, fewer pollinators are active. For this reason, the plant also employs wind pollination and even, to a certain extent, self-pollination.

After lunch, it was time to explore the Dor-Habonim Beach, one of the most beautiful stretches of Israel’s Mediterranean coastline, with its archaeological remains, its many rocky inlets and tidal pools. I last visited this part of the coast in late February this year, when I went, with other members of my choir, to take part in a musical workshop at Kibbutz Ma’agan Michael.  This time, instead of Handel’s Messiah, it was the song of the sea and the flowers I had come to hear.

In ancient times, Dor was an important strategic site on the Via Maris, the historic road that ran along the Mediterranean coast from Egypt to Syria (the Fertile Crescent), and which was one of the major trade routes of the Levant.  The archaeological site , Tel Dor, lies adjacent to the modern Moshav Dor.  You can read more about Tel Dor, its history and its archaeological remains in the link I have provided. As this was more of a nature ramble, we concentrated on the flora – and in particular, the sea daffodil or sea lily (Pancratium maritimum).

P1030456 חבצלת החוף

In Hebrew, this flower is known as khavatzelet hakhof  (חבצלת החוף) – a name very similar to khavatzelet haSharon (חבצלת השרון) known to us from the Song of Songs and usually translated as “Rose of Sharon”.  Since the central part of Israel’s Mediterranean coast is known as the Sharon Plain, and since the flower in question grows there in abundance, it has been speculated that Pancratium maritinum is, in fact, the flower to which the Biblical poet is referring.

It gets dark early in Israel in November. The sun sets by about 4:30 p.m. and by half past five, it is completely dark. As we walked south along the coast, the sea and the clouds made for a spectacular sunset. I love seascapes, and I love sunsets – and confronted with the two together, my camera and I had a veritable feast.

I will leave you with the results:


P1030462 שקיעה בחוף דור





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At the Turning of the Year

The day before yesterday, I got back from a week long trip to London, about which I have every intention of writing “after the holidays” 😉 but for now, since Rosh Hashanah will be upon us in less than two hours, all that is left for me to do is to wish all my readers a Good and a Sweet Year.

שנה טובה   –  Shana Tova

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Today is Tisha b’Av, the 9th of Av – the day on which Jews mourn the destruction of both the First and Second Temples, the First Temple by the Babylonians in 586 BCE and the Second Temple by the Romans, in 70 CE. This we do by fasting, praying and reading the Book of Lamentations.

The Destruction of the Second Temple, in particular, marked the total loss of Jewish sovereignty in the Holy Land and the start of 2000 years of exile. That loss of sovereignty ended with the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948, but Jerusalem remained divided for another 19 years, with no Jew allowed to enter the Jordanian-occupied Old City, or visit the Western Wall.

All that changed with the miraculous Israeli victory over the Jordanians in the Six Day War, in June 1967.
Or did it?
Moshe Dayan, who was then Israel’s Defence Minister, threw away that miracle, by handing the keys of the Temple Mount over to the Muslim Waqf as soon as hostilities had ended, and allowing them to decide who can and who can’t pray at Judaism’s holiest site. And, as expected, the Waqf has determinedly opposed Jewish prayer on the Temple Mount  ever since – even individual prayer. A Jew who murmurs a prayer under his breath, or even displays his grief at our loss of sovereignty over the site of Solomon’s Temple by weeping, is subject to harassment by Waqf officials and is unceremoniously removed from the site by the Israeli Police. That’s if he isn’t arrested for “causing a breach of the peace”.

So, when I heard someone on the radio this morning explaining why he is only going to fast half a day, I pricked up my ears. According to him, while it is right to fast in memory of the disaster that befell us 2000 years ago, we have to take into account that we have regained sovereignty in the land of our ancestors, we have a flourishing society in an independent Jewish state, our people no longer have to wander stateless over the face of the earth and therefore, most of the evil consequences of the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the Temple have been mitigated. There are some who go even further and claim that Tisha b’Av no longer has any legitimate place at all in the Jewish calendar, now that Jewish independence has been re-established in our ancient homeland.

I might have bought into that claim a year ago. But then came the recent events on the Temple Mount. Just to recap: on July 14th this year, three Israeli Arab citizens from the town of Umm el-Fahm smuggled firearms onto the Temple Mount (quite possibly with the connivance of members of the Waqf), opened fire on Israeli Police guarding the holy site, murdered two Israeli Druze policemen and were themselves shot dead by other Israeli policemen,

The police reaction was to install metal detectors at the entry points to the Temple Mount (astonishingly, prior to this terrorist atrocity, the only metal detectors in use in this most sensitive area were at the single gate used by non-Muslim visitors to the Mount, as well as at the entrances to the Western Wall Plaza). They also installed extra security cameras along the approach road to the Temple Mount from the Lions’ Gate, the nearest gate in the Old City walls. The Muslim response was to scream blue murder, riot, accuse Israel of attempting to change the status quo (as, indeed, we should have done!) and to refuse to pray on the Temple Mount until all the new security installations were removed. They then claimed that Israel was “preventing Muslims from worshipping freely at their holy site.” The “Palestinian Authority” and the Waqf whipped up the fury of the Muslim mob, by claiming that Israel was threatening Al-Aqsa (a mosque in the south-eastern corner of the Temple Mount which is the third holiest site for Muslims, after Mecca and Medina). As a direct result of their incitement, a “Palestinian” terrorist infiltrated the Jewish town of Neve Tzuf (Halamish) in Samaria on July 21st, and carried out a brutal massacre of a Jewish family.

Incredibly, the Israeli government backed down and removed all the security measures which had been installed following the terrorist attack on the Temple Mount.

Can you conceive of anything so stupid? 2000 years ago, we lost control of the holiest of our holy places. Fifty years ago, we regained control – only to have our government immediately give it away, in a futile gesture of peace. Just over two weeks ago, as a result of Israel failing to exercise full sovereignty over the holy site, Israeli policemen were murdered there. The installation of metal detectors was a logical reaction to such an atrocity, and would have been the perfect opportunity to correct Moshe Dayan’s historic mistake and to reassert Israeli sovereignty over OUR holy site – but our spineless government threw it away!

Today, on Tisha b’Av, when Jews are mourning the loss of our Temple and a few dare to go up to the Temple Mount, they are still prevented from praying there, arrested, dragged away by force by the Israeli Police – and, to cap it all, the “Palestinian Authority” continues to incite against Jews and has the unmitigated gall to claim that the Jews who are flocking to the Western Wall – where they have been accustomed to pray for hundreds of years – are “desecrating Al-Aqsa“!!!

UNESCO has been no less to blame, buying into the Arab lie that denies any Jewish connection to the Temple Mount and even to the Western Wall.

Bearing all this in mind, I cannot agree that the time has come to discard the fast of Tisha b’Av – or even half of it.

Moreover, the causeless hatred (שנאת חינם – sinat chinam) between Jew and Jew, which was the cause of the fall of the Second Temple, is still with us. Tension between Orthodox and Reform Jews, Left-Wing and Right-Wing, Inner-City dwellers and kibbutznikim…. nor is there any shortage of people with an agenda who are happy to exploit such tensions.
Tisha b’Av is a good time to reflect on that and to consider how causeless hatred can be banished – before it brings calamity down upon us once more.

Image result for The Holy Temple in Jerusalem images

Model of the Second Temple


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White Nights, Red (Letter) Days

No doubt many of you have been wondering where I had disappeared to and what I have been up to over the past couple of months.

Wonder no more. All shall be revealed.      🙂

Earlier this month, my choir, the Jerusalem Oratorio Chamber Choir, had the privilege of taking part in the Fifth European Jewish Music and Choir Festival, held this year in St. Petersburg, Russia. Naturally, this had required much rehearsal time – at a time when we were also busy with several other projects, such as the Jerusalem Oratorio Choir’s annual Gala, the Chamber Choir’s own end-of-year concert (which was also a fundraiser for our journey to Russia) and a singalong performance of Gilbert and Sullivan’s “H.M.S. Pinafore” which took place only a few days before we were due to fly (via Moscow) to “the Venice of the North”. In addition to all the time and energy devoted to preparations for the journey, I – and other members of my family – were also busy with preparations for an important family event (about which, more later).

This trip marked the first time I used my Israeli passport for anything other than exiting Israel. Usually, for reasons of convenience, I use my British passport while abroad, since most of my travels have been within the EU and (until now, at least), there has therefore been no need to obtain a visa. What will happen after Brexit is anybody’s guess. Even when I travelled with JOCC to New York, in 2010, my UK passport made me eligible for the Visa Waiver Program.  However, it turns out that while Israeli nationals do not require a visa to visit Russia (and that is something no one even dreamed of, when I got my first Israeli passport more than four decades ago), nationals of almost every other country do. The two Americans and the German citizen in our group had to go running back and forth to the Russian Embassy in Tel Aviv – and the German citizen, one of our basses, eventually gave up and didn’t come on the trip.

Trips abroad with JOCC are almost invariably enlivened by hitches of greater or lesser severity. Arriving at St. Petersburg’s Pulkovo Airport, early in the afternoon of Wednesday July 5th, we were met by a representative of our hosts, who informed us that we had to wait 20 minutes or so for another choir which was due to arrive and travel with us to the same hotel. The 20 minutes turned into over an hour, during which we whiled away the time doing what we nearly always do in such situations. We started singing. Judging by the number of passers-by who whipped out mobile phones to film us, we didn’t give too bad a performance 😉

When the other choir (or rather, choirs) eventually arrived, we were exceedingly irritated by the fact that they were sent off directly to the hotel, whereas we had to wait for another coach. As a result, we arrived at the Azimut Hotel two hours later than planned. We had intended to dump our suitcases and go directly to the Hermitage Museum, for which we had pre-paid tickets (valid for six months) and which is open till 21:00 on Wednesdays.  However, by now, we were all hungry so instead, we went out for our first glimpse of the city and to find somewhere to eat. As a result, we missed the Welcome Party (at which, apparently, there was no real food) which caused some ill will. But after being kept hanging around at the airport for almost two hours, I hold that a decent meal was a necessity and so my conscience is clear.

My first impressions of St. Petersburg are of a beautiful, majestic city which, with its rivers and canals, strongly reminded me of Amsterdam, rather than Venice.






Returning to the hotel at about 22:00, I was able to enjoy the splendid sunset (St. Petersburg is so far north – on the same line of latitude as Oslo – that it doesn’t get completely dark till after midnight in July and the dawn breaks at about 2.30 AM) before going to bed after a very long day which had started when I got up at 3.30 AM on Wednesday morning to catch my 07:00 AM  Aeroflot flight to Moscow.


20170705_221734From my window at ten fifteen pm

That was the view from my room on the fifth floor. The views from the Sky Bar, on the 18th floor, were no less spectacular!



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Panorama from the Sky Bar


The following day, Thursday, started with a rehearsal in one of the hotel’s conference rooms, of three pieces to be sung at the Gala Concert by the combined choirs – over five hundred singers, together with the orchestra. One of these pieces was Israel’s National Anthem – Hatikvah.  Who would have imagined, thirty or forty years ago, that in Israel’s 70th year, Jewish choirs from all over Europe – including two local Jewish choirs from St. Petersburg – would be singing the Israeli National Anthem here in St. Petersburg? St. Petersburg (or Leningrad, as it was known during the Soviet era) where, under the Czarist regime, Jews – who were normally confined to the Pale of Settlement – required a special permit to live and where, under the Communists, Jews could live – but could not be Jews.

I think I was not the only one with a lump in my throat.



The opening concert of the Festival was that evening, at the St. Petersburg State Capella, which started life as the St. Petersburg Court Chapel and which is also known as the Academic Glinka Capella or the St. Petersburg Music House. We were amused to note that the presentation was strongly reminiscent of the Eurovision Song Contest, with two compères, one male, who spoke in Russian and one female, who presented the singers in heavily-accented English.  The ten participating choirs were preceded by a full-throated non-Jewish Russian choir. I didn’t catch the name of the choir but I believe it was the Capella’s own choir .

Our choir was one of the first to perform.


Appearing at the Capella


Each choir presented a short programme of 3 or 4 songs. Even so, with so many choirs taking part and with introductions in between by the compères in two languages, as well as an interval between the two halves of the concert, what was supposed to be a two hour concert actually took almost four hours.  No wonder, when everyone was enjoying themselves so much.





Nor was that the end of the evening because the concert was followed by a reception and a dance party (with real food, this time) back at the hotel,  where the festival participants were beguiled by the music of a klezmer band until the early hours of the morning.

The following morning, Friday, the organisers had laid on a coach tour of St. Petersburg for us. After seeing the main sights, such as The Bronze Horseman (a statue of Peter the Great),  the monument to Catherine the Great, the Kazan Cathedral, the Sphinxes on the University Embankment facing the  Imperial Academy of Arts, the Admiralty Building, the Hermitage Museum – in front of which, some kind of military graduation ceremony was taking place



and the Church on Spilled Blood  which we had seen on our first evening and where we now had the opportunity to be photographed in full Russian aristocratic regalia



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and also to experience Russian public toilets – where they have some strange ideas about what the people who use them might be tempted to get up to –


IMG-20170707-WA0017 Public toilet ticket

to name but a few, we arrived at the Grand Choral Synagogue, where we were welcomed by the Chief Rabbi of St. Petersburg, Menachem Mendel Pewzner, who got us all singing – another emotional moment it would have been hard to imagine forty years ago.






After a (very) light lunch at the synagogue, we were free until Kabbalat Shabbat later that evening.

And that is how we found ourselves at the famous Sever Bakery and Cafe on the even more famous Nevsky Prospect, sitting at an outside table, watching the passersby, sipping cappucino and sampling to-die-for pastries, such as these:



IMG-20170717-WA0009At Sever's Cafe



Returning on the Metro (deeper than any undergound railway I have ever seen, anywhere – I was told that the Soviets built their Metro lines so deep as to allow for them to serve as bunkers and bomb shelters in the event of a nuclear war with the United States, but I am not sure this was the real reason),  I barely had time for a shower before it was time to go downstairs for Kabbalat Shabbat and the festive Shabbat meal.
P1030152 On the Metro



This was another emotional experience, the participating choirs taking turns to sing Shabbat evening songs. We had a hit with Shabbat Hamalka  (Shabbat the Queen), which was also the first item in our concert the following afternoon (see a video of the whole concert below).

The following morning, we walked to the Hermitage Museum and spent a rather frenetic couple of hours there.  In fact, for me, it was also frantic for a good part of the time, as I became separated from the rest of the group. I had hoped to see the museum’s Impressionist collection, but that is housed in a separate wing and the tickets we had purchased on the internet prior to leaving Israel could only be used once in each of the different buildings of the Hermitage. So I contented myself with relics of Ancient Egypt, mediaeval and renaissance Italian paintings and 17th century Dutch art. The museum buildings are themselves pretty impressive, as these pictures show:





I do, however, greatly regret not having caught so much as a glimpse of the famous Hermitage cats!

Of course, it is impossible to see more than the merest fraction of the museum’s collection on a two and a half hour visit – and, in any case, I think two to three hours at a time  is as much as most people can manage without going into meltdown. (When I visit London, I usually make two or three visits to the National Gallery or the British Museum, over a course of several days.)
Besides, as I already mentioned, we had a concert that afternoon – at the Lutheran Church of St. Peter and St. Paul on the Nevsky Prospect. This concert included Adon Olam, with the solo sung by Yours Truly. It was the third item on the programme and you can find it at 6:50 on the recording below.



Some of us had hoped to be able to return to the Hermitage after the concert, but this concert, like its predecessor, went on longer than expected. Two other choirs also took part, both of them local choirs – the Choir of Jewish Song Lovers “Eva”, part of the St. Petersburg EVA Charitable Foundation, and the EVA Jewish Youth Choir – something else that would have been unthinkable in the Soviet era. It is particularly heartwarming to know that  Jewish life in the former Soviet Union has enjoyed such a comeback that there is a new generation ready to carry on the tradition!





The following day, a group of us visited Peterhof, Peter the Great’s Russian version of Versailles, in the western suburbs of St. Petersburg.  As we had a concert that evening at the renowned Mariinsky Concert Hall and had to be back in town for a rehearsal there by early afternoon, we knew we would not have time to see both the palace and the gardens and so we opted for the gardens. Tickets for the gardens alone can be purchased at a separate ticket office behind the palace.



The gardens and parklands surrounding the Palace (or rather, palaces) are beautiful. Some are in the formal style to be found at Versailles, others more closely resemble an English country estate:




One of the lesser “palaces” to be found on the grounds is Peter the Great’s private “retreat” – Marly Palace. It looks out over a man-made lake which is crossed by a couple of elegant bridges.




On one of these bridges we decided, quite spontaneously, to entertain the ducks by rehearsing our pieces for that night’s Gala Concert.



I have to hand it to them, they were a very enthusiastic audience 😉
As we sang, more and more of them gathered around to listen, as did a couple of park keepers.

Peterhof is actually situated on the shores of the Gulf of Finland, so if you are a seashore buff, as I am, you can wander down to the beach and watch the seagulls.



Peterhof is most famous for its fountains and gilded statues. Most famous of all is the Grand Cascade which is switched on and plays to a musical accompaniment at exactly 11 AM.




To save time, we decided to return to St. Petersburg by hydrofoil.  Back in town, we found that several major streets had been closed for the White Nights Marathon. While none of us can claim to be Marathon runners, we had to leg it pretty fast over to the Mariinsky Concert Hall, for our rehearsal. Then some of us went out to eat but I thought a shower would be a better pick-me-up so I walked back to the hotel (it’s a quarter hour walk), where I found others had had the same idea. I had less than an hour to rest but we took a taxi back to the Mariinsky, where we had now to rehearse the three pieces to be sung by all the choirs together. I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. Fortunately, backstage at the Mariinsky (this was the new concert hall), there is a cafeteria where, for the price of no more than 90 Rubles (less than 6 shekels!) I could have a cup of much needed tea and a smoked salmon sandwich before it was time to dress for the concert.


P1030261Backstage at the Mariinsky Concert Hall


Rather unnervingly, our choir was on first.
Gala Concert at the Mariinsky Concert Hall2


On the other hand, that meant that once our performance was over, we could sit back and enjoy the rest of the concert. Like the previous two concerts, this one also lasted much longer than anticipated – and was followed by a Farewell Party in the Grand Choral Synagogue, after which many members of our group went on a night cruise on the Neva. I was not one of them. I intended to go – but when I got to the meeting place with another member of the group, and found the boat about to leave, no-one else from our group was there. I decided to go back to the hotel, as we were supposed to be leaving the following morning at 6 AM, to catch a 9:20 AM flight.

Silly me. It turns out that everyone else had left on another boat, with English-speaking commentary. I could kick  myself. I would have liked to see the bridges opening.

However,  it’s not worth eating myself up about all the things I could/should have done but didn’t. At least I got a few hours of sleep that night. The others got back to the hotel at about 2:30 AM, and still had to pack. And I can always look at their pictures.




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I was up at 5:25 the following morning. When I checked my WhatsApp messages, I saw that our departure from the hotel had been postponed to 6:30 to allow us to eat breakfast. Unfortunately, the coach which was supposed to transport us to the airport failed to materialise!
Mild panic ensued, there were frantic phone calls to the organisers, who called the hotel and had them organise taxis to take us to the airport (at no charge to us, I must add). When we finally got there, we discovered that our flight had been been postponed to 10 o’clock.  Would we reach Moscow in time for our connecting flight?

We did.
We landed in Tel Aviv slightly earlier than anticipated and arrived back in Jerusalem just as several major traffic arteries were being closed in preparation for the Maccabiah Night Run.

My brother had arrived from England the day before – to celebrate my father’s 90th birthday with a party we had been planning for the best part of 6 months. This took place two days after my return.
In the same way as the celebration of Jewish music we had just attended in St. Petersburg represented the victory of the Jewish spirit over the Soviet regime which had tried to destroy our nation spiritually, so the celebration of my father’s 90th birthday represented the triumph of the Jewish spirit over the Nazi monsters who tried to wipe out our nation physically. When my father, a frightened 12-year-old boy, sailed for England at the end of August 1939,  one of the few fortunate Jewish refugee children from Europe (less than 10,000) allowed in as part of the Kindertransport,  I doubt that he, or his parents (whom he was never to see again) imagined that 78 years later, he would be celebrating his 90th birthday in his own home in Jerusalem, capital of the independent Jewish State of Israel, surrounded by his children and grandchildren.
And yes – I thought of that too, as we sang Hatikvah in St. Petersburg, and wondered how many more could have been saved if we had then had a state of our own.

Shabbat Shalom to you all.



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A Tale of Two Cities

I hold two cities in my heart and in my thoughts today. With one I rejoice. With the other, I mourn.

I mourn with the great city of Manchester, as she buries twenty-two of her sons and daughters, the youngest no more than eight years old, victims of a brutal act of terror committed earlier this week by an evil Islamist fanatic, who, as is the case so often with Islamist extremists, deliberately targeted the weakest and most defenceless, children and teenagers. Just as Boko Haram and the Taliban target schoolgirls, just as Chechen Muslim terror groups targeted schoolchildren in the 2004 Beslan school attack, going so far as to deny their hostages food and water, just as “Palestinian” Muslim terrorists murder Jewish children in their beds, so did Salman Abedi, the British-born son of Libyan Muslim parents, choose as his target a concert where he must have known that a large segment of the audience would be in their teens, or even younger.


Mancunians are tough and in the face of terror, have displayed the same spirit of defiance which typified Britain during the Second World War. In this, they resemble Israelis, who have faced the brutality of suicide bombers over and over again.  It is a spirit expressed to perfection in this poem by Tony Walsh, written in 2013 and performed by him yesterday, at the public vigil following the horrendous attack:


I salute you, Manchester – and I share your tears.


I hold two cities in my heart and in my thoughts today. With one I mourn. With the other, I rejoice.

I rejoice with the Holy City of Jerusalem, Capital of the reborn State of Israel, as she celebrates her Golden Jubilee, half a century since her liberation from the illegal Jordanian occupation and her reunification, under Jewish sovereignty once more, for the first time in 2000 years. Whether or not the rest of the world chooses to recognise it as such, Jerusalem is the capital of Israel. Any dictionary you choose to look in will tell you that a nation’s capital is its seat of government, its administrative centre. No other city in Israel meets that definition. The Knesset, Israel’s parliament, is in Jerusalem. The President’s Residence is in Jerusalem. The Prime Minister’s Residence is in Jerusalem. The seat of the Supreme Court is in Jerusalem. All the major government offices are in Jerusalem. When foreign ambassadors present their credentials to the President of Israel, they do so in Jerusalem – thereby recognising her status as Capital,  de facto if not  de jure.  And most important of all, the Old City of Jerusalem, situated in that part of the city that was liberated in June 1967, in a war that was forced on Israel, contains the holiest site in the world to the Jewish People – the Temple Mount, at whose foot stands the Western Wall, last remnant of the Second Temple.


This afternoon, tens of thousands are marching through the streets of Jerusalem in the annual “Dance of the Flags”, so called because of the row upon row of Israeli flags carried by the participants, a veritable sea of blue and white. Their destination – the Old City and the Western Wall. And they will reaffirm, to all the world, that (in the words of Gen. Moshe Dayan, Israel’s Defence Minister at the time of the Six-Day-War) “We have returned to the holiest of our holy places, never to part from it again”.


The song “Jerusalem of Gold” (ירושלים של זהב – Yerushalayim Shel Zahav) is probably the most famous song to emerge from the Six Day War, although it was actually commissioned by the legendary Mayor of Jerusalem, Teddy Kollek for performance in the (alas, now defunct) annual Israel Song Festival  on Independence Day, which that year fell on May 15th. Composed by Naomi Shemer and sung by Shuly Nathan (an unknown singer at the time), the song derives its name from the golden diadem said to have been given by the great scholar Rabbi Akiva to his wife, Rachel.  When it was first performed, three weeks before the Six-Day-War, it seemed like a bittersweet song of never-to-be assuaged longing for a divided city, where no Jew (let alone an Israeli Jew) was permitted to set foot by the Jordanians – a longing which is reflected in the first three verses. After the Israeli victory, and the liberation of the hitherto unattainable Old City, Naomi Shemer added the fourth verse, which she herself performed before the IDF soldiers who had liberated the city, and in response to their enthusiastic applause, remarked: “It is much easier to change a song than to change a city”. (This works better in Hebrew, as the words for “song”  – shir – and “city”  – ir –  rhyme.)

At all events, here is Shuly Nathan, singing the whole four verses.


And here is the translation:

Mountain air as clear as wine,
And the scent of pine trees, 

Are carried on the twilight breeze,
With the sound of bells.
And in the slumber of tree and stone, 

A prisoner in her own dream,
The city which sits solitary,
And in her heart – a Wall.

Jerusalem of Gold,
And of copper and of light,
Am I not the harp for all thy songs?

How have the water wells dried up!
The market square is empty.
And nobody visits the Temple Mount
In the Old City.
And in the caves within the rock

Winds howl
And no-one goes down to the Dead Sea
By the Jericho Road.

Jerusalem of Gold etc.

But when I come today to sing to thee,
And to attach crowns to thee,
I am but the youngest of thy sons,
And the least of thy poets.
For thy name sears the lips,
Like a Seraph’s kiss.
If I forget thee, O Jerusalem,
Who art all of gold.

Jerusalem of Gold etc.

We have returned to the water wells.
To the market and to the square.
The Shofar calls from the Temple Mount
In the Old City.
And in the caves within the rock,
A thousand suns shine!
And once again, we will go down to the Dead Sea,
By the Jericho Road.

Jerusalem of Gold etc.

After the Six Day War, “Jerusalem of Gold” became a kind of unofficial, second national anthem, although it is unpopular with some left-wing Israelis, such as the writer Amos Oz, who castigated the song’s alleged “inhumanity” in ignoring the Arab presence in Jerusalem. Naomi Shemer replied to this criticism, stating – quite simply – that for her,  Jerusalem without Jews is an empty city.

I hold two cities in my heart and in my thoughts and in my prayers today. With one I mourn. With the other, I rejoice.

For both, I pray for peace.





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You Can Shove It, U.N.E.S.C.O …

Last week, U.N.E.S.C.O. – an organization whose purpose, according to its own Constitution, is “to contribute to peace and security by promoting collaboration among the nations through education, science and culture in order to further universal respect for justice, for the rule of law and for the human rights and fundamental freedoms which are affirmed for the peoples of the world, without distinction of race, sex, language or religion, by the Charter of the United Nations,” passed a blatantly one-sided anti-Israel resolution (the latest of many), which denies Israeli sovereignty in Jerusalem (including western Jerusalem) and condemning (amongst other things) “persistent excavations, tunneling, works and projects in East Jerusalem, particularly in and around the Old City of Jerusalem, which are illegal under international law.”

Quite apart from the fact that determining questions of sovereignty is no part of U.N.E.S.C.O.’s mandate, one might ask, where was U.N.E.S.C.O. during the 19 years between 1948 – 1967, when the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan was illegally occupying the Old City of Jerusalem (which, according to the U.N. Partition Resolution of November 1947 – UNGA Resolution 181(II) –  was supposed to be a corpus separatum, under a Special International Regime) and systematically destroying Jewish holy sites such as the ancient cemetery on the Mount of Olives, and the synagogues of the Jewish Quarter? Where was U.N.E.S.C.O. when, in the 19 years between 1948 – 1967, Jews (not just Israeli citizens) were denied access to the Western Wall in Jerusalem (not to mention the Tomb of Rachel in Bethlehem and the Tomb of the Patriarchs in Hebron), in defiance of Resolution 181, which clearly states: “In so far as Holy Places are concerned, the liberty of access, visit and transit shall be guaranteed, in conformity with existing rights, to all residents and citizens of the other State and of the City of Jerusalem, as well as to aliens, without distinction as to nationality, subject to requirements of national security, public order and decorum“?

Where was U.N.E.S.C.O. in the 50 years since Jerusalem was reunited under Israeli sovereignty, when the Muslim Waqf carried out illegal excavations and building on the Temple Mount to enlarge the Mosques and deliberately and systematically destroyed any archaeological evidence they could find of the Jewish presence  on the Mount, which predates that of the Arab Muslim invaders by at least 1600 years?

In another section of this infamous Resolution, U.N.E.S.C.O. “Deplores the military confrontations in and around the Gaza Strip and the civilian casualties caused, as well as the continuous negative impact in the fields of competence of UNESCO, the attacks on schools and other educational and cultural facilities, including breaches of the inviolability of United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East (UNRWA) schools” – which would be laughable if it weren’t so tragic, considering the fact that UNWRA schools were used – with the full knowledge of UNWRA personnel – for storing missiles to be fired at Israeli civilians!

We are told that Israel can be pleased that all the European Union members of U.N.E.S.C.O.’s Executive Board, with the exception of rabidly anti-Israel Sweden, either opposed the shameful resolution, or abstained.  Frankly, as far as I am concerned, any country that abstained, is scarcely better than those who supported the measure. They are moral cowards.

Any organisation that so violates its own Constitution as to adopt such a disgraceful resolution does not deserve the name “United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization”.

Any resolution that can so blatantly ignore history as to deny the sovereignty of the Jewish State over Jerusalem deserves  to be used for toilet paper.

That being the case, U.N.E.S.C.O. you know where you can shove your antisemitic resolution.
Somewhere the sun doesn’t shine.

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Words as Weapons: Islamophobia

Have you noticed how, in today’s Politically Correct climate, anyone who dares to criticise anything about Islam – such as its attitude to women or to non-Muslims- or to mention the fact that the perpetrator of a terrorist act was a Muslim, is immediately accused of being a hateful bigot and branded by the Thought Police of the Left as “Islamophobic”?

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines “phobia” as: “an exaggerated usually inexplicable and illogical fear of a particular object, class of objects, or situation“.

Other dictionary definitions are similar: “a persistent, irrational fear of a specific object,activity, or situation that leads to a compelling desire to avoid it.

The medical definition is similar: “Specific phobias are an overwhelming and unreasonable fear of objects or situations that pose little real danger but provoke anxiety and avoidance.

Note the emphasis, in all these definitions, on the illogicality, irrationality and unreasonableness of the specific fear.

Let us ask ourselves – just how irrational is the fear of Islam and, by extension, of Muslims?
A survey of the views of British Muslims, commissioned last year by Channel 4, revealed that while, to a high degree, they feel at home in Britain, on certain issues, notably those supposedly close to the heart of truly liberal, tolerant people, such as women’s rights and “gender-equality” (I have deliberately used the Politically Correct terminology here, to show up the hypocrisy of the PC Thought Police), British Muslims are significantly at odds with the general population. For example, almost a quarter of British Muslims (23%) support the replacement of British law with Sharia law in parts of Britain. Almost a third (31%) believe it is acceptable for British Muslims to have more than one wife. 39% believe that wives should always obey their husbands.  Almost half of all British Muslims (47%) believe that homosexuals should not be allowed to be schoolteachers – hardly surprising when the survey shows that fully 52% believe that homosexuality should be illegal in Britain. Think about that. We are not talking here about whether or not homosexuals should be allowed to marry one another. More than half of Britain’s Muslim population believe that homosexual acts between individuals, in the privacy of their own homes, should be criminalised. Bear in mind that, as I mentioned above, almost a quarter of British Muslims believe British law should be replaced by Sharia law.
The penalty for homosexuality, according to Islamic law, is death.
When it comes to freedom of expression, 4% admit to sympathising with those who commit terrorist acts as a form of political protest, while almost a third (32%), while not admitting to sympathising, refuse to condemn those who take part in violence against those who “mock” the Prophet. If the Charlie Hebdo massacre had taken place in the UK, almost a third of Britain’s Muslim population would have refused to condemn the murderers.
When you consider that the Muslim population of Britain is growing much faster than the general population, more than doubling over a a ten year period, and now numbers well over 3 million, even a “mere” 4% who are ready to admit to sympathising with terrorist acts is surely a reasonable cause for concern.

In France, a recent poll conducted by the Institut Montaigne found that 29% – almost a third – of French Muslims favour Sharia law above French law, while a quarter support the wearing in public of the full-face veil (niqab or burqa) by women.  A quarter of those questioned were defined as “hardline”, supporting also polygamy. Particularly worrying is the fact that about half the Muslims under the age of 25 fell into this hardline category – and this is, of course, the fasting growing demographic group.

Add to this the many terrorist attacks carried out by Muslims, and in the name of Islam, in Europe and in the US, over the past couple of years, criminal incidents such as the grooming of British adolescents by Muslim paedophile gangs, mass sexual assaults such as the New Year’s Eve attacks in Cologne, combined with the increase in the Muslim population in the West, whether by natural increase or by migration, and we must ask ourselves: is the fear of Islam – and, by extension, of Muslims – really so inexplicable, irrational, unreasonable or illogical as to constitute a phobia?
The only possible answer to that question must be a resounding “No”.

And just for the record – Fear and Phobia are not necessarily synonymous with Hatred.





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