_
Rabin's Assassination: Rabin’s Spirit Hovers Over Rehovot Synagogue
Because prime minister's assassin was a kippah-wearing Jew, a group of religious Jews in Rehovot prays at a synagogue named for him. Among the religious they’re seen as marginal, even bizarre: 'Why mention the murder of Rabin in particular, and not the murder of every person, women murdered by their husbands, or traffic accidents?'
For a group of Rehovot residents, a synagogue named for Yitzhak Rabin is not a contradiction in terms. Among those who memorialize the slain Israeli leader, this group is unique. Eleven years after his death, they’re trying to bridge the wide chasm between religious and secular, and between themselves and other religious Israelis.
Since a man with a kippah shot three times at the prime minister’s back, the feeling of shame has given them no rest. Five times a year they say prayers in Rabin’s memory, and tonight, too, their Orthodox synagogue will be filled with special prayers in honor of the official remembrance day.
Yigal Amir is a religious murderer. This statement, which will probably infuriate some readers, is one of the routine terms used to identify individuals or groups.
They’re the vanguard in the religious camp, where many people have still not done serious soul searching. Some have been in denial, some have used incitement, and others have dismissed the connection between the incitement and the despicable deed.
While a few have acknowledged responsibility, none but the members of this synagogue have attempted to incorporate the assassination into daily religious worship. “This is our response to a murder committed by a man calling himself ‘religious,’ and this is the place where you can speak out clearly against the deed,” they say.
Visitors to the synagogue are greeted by two plaques with Rabin’s name. A small inscription inside the synagogue indicates that Rabin’s family made a contribution for the ascent of his soul, though in his lifetime he didn’t exactly frequent synagogues.
Does the fact that Rabin was secular bother you?
“Who decides who is religious and who is secular? What’s definite is that during his life he saved many Jews, and that’s what’s important,” says Gadi Gevaryahu, founder of the synagogue.
Not all the members of this synagogue—where Yossi Sarid, Chanan Porat, and Haim Ramon all managed to dance at a Torah scroll dedication—are on the left politically. In fact, all sides of the political spectrum are represented here. Some have moved from one side to the other. “Before the assassination I demonstrated against Rabin and against the Oslo process. The murder caused me to make a real change of direction. I felt ashamed, I felt that nothing was worth it,” says synagogue chairman Yossi Elran.
They are angered by the recent survey showing that one in three Israelis supports a pardon for Yigal Amir, with even higher percentages among the religious public. “They haven’t learned their lesson,” they say. “If our prayers get through, that criminal won’t be released,” says Gevaryahu.
Not everyone in their immediate environment is pleased by this approach. When the synagogue was founded in 1997, people said they wouldn’t get a minyan (prayer quorum) for Rabin, and later, posters announcing prayers to mark the anniversary of the assassination were vandalized. According to Gevaryahu “To this day there are parts of the city where our notices are removed immediately.”
'It’s not even clear Amir murdered him'
In the ultra-Orthodox neighborhood two streets away, they’re mourning a community member who died, and dozens are gathered around the Poalei Agudat Yisrael synagogue. Mention of the Yitzchak Rabin synagogue is met with the chilly response that “it’s always good to have another synagogue.”
But some are dismissive of the need to mention Rabin at all. “Why mention the murder of Rabin in particular, and not the murder of every person, women murdered by their husbands, or traffic accidents? That’s murder too,” said Rabbi Mordechai Kikus.
The various conspiracy theories have taken hold in the neighborhood. “There were all kinds of strange things there, it’s not even definite that he murdered him,” says one.
The time for evening prayers is approaching, and several men begin to gather at the Rabin Synagogue for a Torah class.
Do you deal with other aspects of Rabin’s legacy, or just the assassination?
Gevaryahu: “We don’t deal with Rabin’s legacy, this isn’t the Palmah Museum, but Rabin’s spirit hovers over us. I just have to admit that if Rabin hadn’t been killed by a man wearing a kippah, it’s very doubtful we would have founded a synagogue in his name.”
Source: YNet News (5 Nov 2006) [FullText]
For a group of Rehovot residents, a synagogue named for Yitzhak Rabin is not a contradiction in terms. Among those who memorialize the slain Israeli leader, this group is unique. Eleven years after his death, they’re trying to bridge the wide chasm between religious and secular, and between themselves and other religious Israelis.
Since a man with a kippah shot three times at the prime minister’s back, the feeling of shame has given them no rest. Five times a year they say prayers in Rabin’s memory, and tonight, too, their Orthodox synagogue will be filled with special prayers in honor of the official remembrance day.
Yigal Amir is a religious murderer. This statement, which will probably infuriate some readers, is one of the routine terms used to identify individuals or groups.
They’re the vanguard in the religious camp, where many people have still not done serious soul searching. Some have been in denial, some have used incitement, and others have dismissed the connection between the incitement and the despicable deed.
While a few have acknowledged responsibility, none but the members of this synagogue have attempted to incorporate the assassination into daily religious worship. “This is our response to a murder committed by a man calling himself ‘religious,’ and this is the place where you can speak out clearly against the deed,” they say.
Visitors to the synagogue are greeted by two plaques with Rabin’s name. A small inscription inside the synagogue indicates that Rabin’s family made a contribution for the ascent of his soul, though in his lifetime he didn’t exactly frequent synagogues.
Does the fact that Rabin was secular bother you?
“Who decides who is religious and who is secular? What’s definite is that during his life he saved many Jews, and that’s what’s important,” says Gadi Gevaryahu, founder of the synagogue.
Not all the members of this synagogue—where Yossi Sarid, Chanan Porat, and Haim Ramon all managed to dance at a Torah scroll dedication—are on the left politically. In fact, all sides of the political spectrum are represented here. Some have moved from one side to the other. “Before the assassination I demonstrated against Rabin and against the Oslo process. The murder caused me to make a real change of direction. I felt ashamed, I felt that nothing was worth it,” says synagogue chairman Yossi Elran.
They are angered by the recent survey showing that one in three Israelis supports a pardon for Yigal Amir, with even higher percentages among the religious public. “They haven’t learned their lesson,” they say. “If our prayers get through, that criminal won’t be released,” says Gevaryahu.
Not everyone in their immediate environment is pleased by this approach. When the synagogue was founded in 1997, people said they wouldn’t get a minyan (prayer quorum) for Rabin, and later, posters announcing prayers to mark the anniversary of the assassination were vandalized. According to Gevaryahu “To this day there are parts of the city where our notices are removed immediately.”
'It’s not even clear Amir murdered him'
In the ultra-Orthodox neighborhood two streets away, they’re mourning a community member who died, and dozens are gathered around the Poalei Agudat Yisrael synagogue. Mention of the Yitzchak Rabin synagogue is met with the chilly response that “it’s always good to have another synagogue.”
But some are dismissive of the need to mention Rabin at all. “Why mention the murder of Rabin in particular, and not the murder of every person, women murdered by their husbands, or traffic accidents? That’s murder too,” said Rabbi Mordechai Kikus.
The various conspiracy theories have taken hold in the neighborhood. “There were all kinds of strange things there, it’s not even definite that he murdered him,” says one.
The time for evening prayers is approaching, and several men begin to gather at the Rabin Synagogue for a Torah class.
Do you deal with other aspects of Rabin’s legacy, or just the assassination?
Gevaryahu: “We don’t deal with Rabin’s legacy, this isn’t the Palmah Museum, but Rabin’s spirit hovers over us. I just have to admit that if Rabin hadn’t been killed by a man wearing a kippah, it’s very doubtful we would have founded a synagogue in his name.”
Source: YNet News (5 Nov 2006) [FullText]
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home