Culture Clash

I have a dear friend who went to Columbia University in the 60’s. He has been describing to me his disappointment in the rise of antisemitism on the hallowed Morningside Heights campus. How can it be that this alma mater has transformed from a ‘nurturing mother’ into a dangerous hotbed of hatred? I can’t help but think that this is a case of history repeating itself. 

A similar scenario played out in Eretz Yisrael 2200 years ago. When Alexander the Great came to Eretz Yisrael in 329 BCE, he was greeted respectfully, and acknowledged as ruler without a fight. There are a number of Rabbinic stories of how we and the Hellenists (non-Greeks who adopted Greek culture) became a mutual admiration society. The most famous is that Alexander showed tremendous respect for Shimon HaZadik, the Cohen Gadol.

For about 150 years Jews dwelled in peace and respect with our Hellenist overlords. Why did our ancestors have such high regard for Greek culture? Many Jews believed this amity actually was foreseen in a verse from the story of the sons of Noach: May God beautify Yefet, and cause that beauty to rest with Shem (Breishit 9:27).

According to our tradition, Yefet was the forebear of Greece, and, of course, Shem is our ancestor. So, that period of peace with the Hellenists was seen as a fulfillment of that prophecy. 

But there’s more. Our previous conquerors, Assyria, Babylonia and Persia, had little in their pagan cultures to be admired by others. It was about power and wealth. Not so, the Greeks, who developed mathematics, science and philosophy. We sensed kindred spirits. 

There are stories about great Torah scholars visiting Athens to share scholarly endeavors. We felt like partners in cerebral accomplishments. 

So, what went wrong? How did we morph into mortal enemies? We could give a number of answers. I’ll share two approaches. 

After the death of Alexander (323 BCE), his conquests were divided into three parts. The two which concern us are the Seleucids in Syria, to our north, and the Ptolemy’s, to our south in Egypt. Initially, the Ptolemy’s ruled Eretz Yisrael, and they tended to be tolerant. They fashioned themselves as Pharaohs and allowed Egyptian culture to flourish alongside Hellenism. It was similar in Eretz Yisrael. However, in 190 BCE the Seleucids conquered Eretz Yisrael, and they weren’t nearly as tolerant. 

Another approach is that even under the Seleucids things might have remained peaceful if it weren’t for a mad ruler, namely Antiochus IV. This evil Antiochus was both a megalomaniac and mad. He fashioned himself Antiochus Epiphanes, which means ‘glorious’ or ‘illustrious’, and was meant to imply that he was a god. However, his erratic behavior caused many to call him Antiochus Epimanes or Antiochus the Mad. 

It was during this period that the persecution of Jews and Judaism began. The Hellenists attacked three specific Jewish practices which they found abhorrent: Shabbat, because it glorified God’s Creation, and they believed that the world always existed; Mila, because it declared the Jews as the Chosen people, they believed everyone should be Hellenist and be exactly the same; and Rosh Chodesh, which sees a world in flux, ever changing and developing, the Greeks believed that the universe was static and unchanging. 

As a result, our former friends and supporters demanded our adherence to Hellenism and paganism. We had two choices. Either roll over and denounce our God, Torah and way of life, or revolt to assert our faith.

Now we can understand a famous Talmudic passage: What is Chanuka? When the Greeks entered the Holy Temple, they defiled all the oil. When the House of the Hasmoneans defeated them, they searched and only found one container of oil that was pure with the seal of the Cohen Gadol. It was only enough oil for one day, but miraculously they lit from it for eight days (Shabbat 21a).

Why did the Sages emphasize the miracle of the oil rather than the supernatural military victory, which seems to be a greater wonder? Well, because we were really fighting over the source of greatness and purpose in the world. They claimed it was their culture, science and accomplishments; we declared it was God, Torah and Mitzvot. 

But the real problem? Tolerance! The Hellenists demanded the homogenization of humanity. Everyone must be on the same page. To disagree with me is to challenge me. You must convert to our credo or perish. We, on the other hand, were perfectly happy with the Hellenists doing their own thing and just allowing, tolerating, indulging us to follow the Torah.  

The greatest and most painful tragedy in this whole story is the fact that many Jews bought into the Hellenist intolerance. We had to fight many assimilated Jews during the struggle to keep Torah and Judaism alive in this world. The war began with Matityahu killing a Jew who was trying to bring pagan worship into our communities. That was a harbinger of many painful scenarios throughout the period. 

And, of course, this brings us back to Columbia and many other campuses throughout the world. For generations we have viewed the great institutions of higher learning as our allies in the struggle for tolerance of Jews and Judaism throughout the western world.  

To a certain extent Columbia is most painful, both because of the number of Jews who have matriculated there and its motto:  In lumine Tuo videbimus lumen. Which is, of course, the Latin translation of Psalms 36:9: By means of Your light we see light.

It appears their light has gone out. The light of our Chanukiot must replace it.