The Land of Israel or the State of Israel?

THE LAND OF ISRAEL

Jerusalem was not always the vibrant capital of the Jewish state that we know today. For centuries, the few Yehudim who managed to reach the Land of Israel were merely a defenseless minority, without sovereignty, living under the rule of foreign powers. Visiting Jerusalem was an act of faith, and seeing the ruins of the city, not only the Temple (Bet HaMiqdash), caused such profound pain that our Sages decreed that one must tear their garments as a sign of mourning.

I think of Yehuda HaLevi, the great 12th-century poet and philosopher who tragically died at the gates of Jerusalem while reciting his poem Tzion Halo Tishali. Or Maimonides, who, upon arriving in Israel in the 12th century, visited Hebron but could not even step foot in Jerusalem due to the bloody Crusades between Christians and Muslims. For more than 1,800 years, the Jewish presence in Jerusalem was insignificant and constantly threatened. We had no army, no government, no authority. We were either persecuted or, at best, tolerated, depending on the whims of the ruling powers.

RELIGION OR NATION?

In his reasoning about tearing garments in contemporary times (something that we Sephardim still do), Rabbi Tzvi Yehuda Kook z”l explains his argument based on an interpretation of the Bet Yosef. He asserts that mourning is not solely dependent on the existence or non-existence of the Temple but also on who governs Israel and Jerusalem. If the city is under foreign rule, then yes, we must mourn our loss. But since 1967, Jerusalem has been in our hands, rebuilt day by day. Jerusalem is no longer just part of the Land of Israel; it is the capital of the State of Israel.

This distinction between “Land” and “State” is fundamental to understanding Purim. In the time of Mordechai and Esther, about 50,000 Jews lived in Jerusalem and its surroundings, and the Bet HaMiqdash was built and functioning! This was thanks to a decree by the Persian emperor Cyrus in 516 BCE, which declared religious freedom for the Jews and allowed the construction of the Temple. But the Jews were subjects of the Persian Empire. They had no sovereignty or army of their own, and after the death of Cyrus, they were not even able to obtain imperial permission to build the protective walls of the Temple—something that Nehemiah achieved with the son of Ahasuerus, Artaxerxes. Without sovereignty, any imperial decree could seal the fate of the Jewish people, as would have happened with Haman’s decree, which would have led to the extermination of the Jews in the “Land” of Israel as well.

WE DON’T REALIZE HOW GOOD WE HAVE IT

Today, thanks to God, Land and State coincide. We no longer depend on the favor of foreign kings or rulers. We protect ourselves heroically with the help of Bore Olam and with our own army. We build and rebuild our cities, ensuring that no modern-day Haman can determine our fate. God performed miracles on Purim through Mordechai and Esther. Today, His Providence is manifested through the soldiers who protect the existence of Medinat Israel.

To better understand the contemporary significance of this concept, we only need to briefly explore the Muslim perspective on the State vs. the Land of Israel. The more moderate Arabs—those who are not jihadists—insist that Jews may live in the Land of Israel, but they must not have a State! According to them, Jews could reside in the Holy Land as a protected minority, paying a special tax (jizya), but without sovereignty or their own army. In other words, depending on the goodwill of those in power. Essentially, they would be willing to grant us the right to exist and even to practice our religion and perhaps have our Bet HaMiqdash—in a location to be determined—but not the right to self-determination. That is, it would repeat the same scenario we experienced during the Persian Empire and for centuries in Muslim countries: we would be at the mercy of the rulers of the time.

THE TRAP OF INGRATITUDE

This is why, every time a Jew speaks of the “Land of Israel” and omits mentioning the “State of Israel,” they are unintentionally reinforcing this Arab narrative. Some may not be satisfied with the Jewish state because it is not yet religious enough, etc. But by denying the idea of the Jewish State and repeating this exilic mindset, one would be acting—perhaps unknowingly—in a disgraceful way toward Bore Olam, who has granted us this immense privilege.

In the Messianic era, according to Maimonides, the first step will be the restoration of Jewish sovereignty over the Land of Israel, under the leadership of the Melekh HaMashiach, a sovereign King (Melekh) whom the Jewish people anoint (Mashiach), and who has not been appointed by non-Jews. Every time we affirm that we have a State of Israel, we also declare that our Messianic aspirations are drawing ever closer.

The lesson of Purim is clear: without our own State, without our own defense, Jews will always be in danger. It doesn’t matter how free we are to practice our religion, and it doesn’t even matter if we are in Israel or in the diaspora—if we don’t have a State, there will always be a Haman ready to find us defenseless.

Today, all Yehudim around the world are, virtually, citizens of Israel. The miracle of Medinat Israel is happening before our very eyes. We only need to open them to see it.

MEGILLAT ESTER -CHAPTER THREE

VERSES 1-7

After some time, King Achashverosh appointed a new prime minister: Haman, son of Hamedata, the Agagite. Agag was from the nation of Amalek, infamous for attacking the Jews without provocation when they left Egypt. Haman was granted the highest powers in the kingdom.

From what we see in the rest of Megillat Esther and what we know from Herodotus’ historical account, once Achashverosh returned defeated from his failed military expedition to Greece, he no longer wanted to engage in politics. He now wished only to enjoy the pleasures of ruling and focus on grand construction projects like those he built in Persepolis. To achieve this, he needed someone to handle his empire’s political and administrative affairs. Haman was that man: he was strong-willed and authoritarian, which helped the king consolidate his rule and, most importantly, prevent any conspiracies against him.

To invest Haman with the highest authority, the king ordered that everyone revere him in a religious way. All the citizens of the empire, the ministers, and the members of the royal court were not only required to bow before Haman—hishtachavayah in Hebrew, an act of respect widely accepted at the time—but also to kneel before him.

“Kneeling and then bowing” (kri’ah ve-hishtachavayah כריעה והשתחוויה) was not merely a sign of respect but an act of worship and religious devotion, a gesture in the Hebrew Bible reserved only for God. The Sages add that Haman carried an idol with him, from which he derived his supposed divinity, similar to pagan priests. Once we understand this, we realize that kneeling and bowing before Haman constituted an act of idolatry. This is why Mordechai, a member of the royal court (sha’ar hamelech), refused to show reverence to Haman.

A lesser-known rabbinic opinion states that King Achashverosh, aware of this issue, personally exempted Mordechai from kneeling before Haman out of respect for his religious principles ( כי כן צוה לו המלך).

Other opinions, however, criticize Mordechai for not being more cautious and suggest that he could have resigned from the royal court to avoid facing the dilemma of bowing or not bowing before Haman.

In my opinion, Mordechai was following the example of Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah, who, 120 years earlier in Daniel’s time, had done something similar during the ceremony of the inauguration of an idol in Babylon (Daniel, chapter 3). When everyone else bowed, they were willing to risk their lives to publicly set an example for other Jews that they must not bow before an idol.

In any case, Mordechai assumed that, at worst, Haman would order his execution. Still, he never imagined that Haman would seek revenge by plotting the genocide of the entire Jewish people.

Mordechai did not deliberately approach Haman provocatively to demonstrate his refusal to bow, as otherwise, Haman would have seen him directly. Instead, Mordechai did so discreetly. And just as had happened with Daniel’s friends, his enemies reported him to Haman.

Upon learning of this affront, Haman was furious. Instead of reporting it to King Achashverosh, he handled the matter personally. His first thought was that killing Mordechai or even his family was not enough. To satisfy his thirst for vengeance, he had to take extreme measures against the people who hold Mordechai’s values. Haman then decided to eliminate “all the Jews in the Persian Empire,” which at that time meant “all the Jews in the world,” including the colony of 50,000 Jews living in Jerusalem, a province of the Persian Empire. This was the “final solution,” conceived by none other than a descendant of Amaleq.

The first thing Haman did was choose a date astrologically favorable for this massacre. The Persians frequently consulted astrologers and oracles to determine the most auspicious days for their plans. According to some historians, their astrological oracle consisted of a board with the names of the months and another board with the numbers of the days. Haman cast a small stone or a special gem—called pur (“lucky stone”) in ancient Persian—onto a board with the names of the months, and it landed on the month of Adar. Then he cast another stone, which landed on the number 13. Thus, two stones (purim, the plural of pur) determined the date, the 13th of Adar, and the fate of the Jewish people. It was the 12th year of King Achashverosh’s reign. All Haman needed was to convince Achashverosh to sign the decree to execute the “final solution.”

VERSES 8-9

From the text of the Megillah—what it states and, more importantly, what it omits—we can deduce that Haman’s strategy to convince King Achashverosh consisted of four key points.

First, he minimized the event and avoided discussing it openly in a formal meeting. That is why Haman did not request an official audience with the king to present his plan, as Esther did when she wanted to speak with him. I think that Haman seized a casual and informal moment—perhaps after a long and exhausting meeting when the king was already standing, tired, or in a rush to attend his next event—to secure a quick and careless “yes” from him.

Second, Haman never explicitly mentioned that he wanted to eliminate the Jews. He proposed sanctions against “a certain people,” describing them as scattered throughout the empire, disobedient of the king’s laws, and followers of their own weird rules. According to Malbim and many other commentators, King Achashverosh did not realize that Haman’s decree referred to the Jews.

Third, Haman avoided stating outright that he wanted to “kill” these people, as that might have alerted the king. Instead, he used an ambiguous term: le-abedam, meaning “to destitute them.” This could imply extermination, but in the Tanakh, it usually means depriving form freedom (enslaving them) or affecting them economically by confiscating their property or exiling them (as in the Shema Yisrael, where va-avadtem meherah means “exile”).

The fourth point was about the money. The king did not need to think twice. Not only did Haman refrain from requesting funds from the Crown for his project, but he also offered to raise money: 10,000 silver talents, which would be confiscated in the operation and added to the royal treasury.

VERSES 10-15

To Haman’s surprise—and delight—King Achashverosh did not ask to read the decree and did not pose any questions. With complete indifference and gross negligence, the king removed his signet ring, handed it to Haman, and said, “Do as you please with this people and keep the money for you.”

Haman’s plan had worked even better than he had expected.

With the king’s ring in his hands, Haman summoned the royal scribes and dictated what they were to write. Rabbi Moshe Almosnino highlights a crucial point: Haman drafted the decree with two separate texts. The first, Ketav Hadat, only stated that all the citizens of the empire should prepare for an important event on the 13th of Adar (Save the Date להיות עתידים ליום הזה) without giving any details.

The second document, Patshegen haKetav, contained the fine print explaining Haman’s true intentions: “On the 13th of Adar, the Jews of the Persian Empire will be destroyed and murdered, and their possessions will be confiscated. The young, the elderly, children, and women of the Jewish people will be killed on the 13th day of the month of Adar.”

The decree was signed on the 13th of Nisan and urgently sent to the 127 provinces of the empire via the royal postal couriers. It was also translated into all the empire’s languages.

In Shushan, to prevent the king from learning of Haman’s entire decree, only the first document, Ketav Hadat, was circulated, which did not mention genocide.

This chapter concludes by telling us that Haman and King Achashverosh sat down to enjoy a banquet, while the citizens of Shushan—both Jews and non-Jews—were left confused and perplexed upon hearing the mysterious proclamation to “save the date“ for the 13th of Adar.

Singing the Hallel in Yerushalayim

Pesach was celebrated with great joy in the times of the Bet haMiqdash (the Temple of Jerusalem, destroyed in the year 68 of the Common Era). Hundreds of thousands of Jews came to Yerushalayim from all corners of Israel to sacrifice the Qorban Pesach (a sheep or goat) on the 14th of Nisan. They stayed with relatives, acquaintances, or often wherever there was room. The houses in Yerushalayim were open to all who needed a place to stay. Only when there was no more room available would a red cloth be hung above the door to announce it.

Today, we remember this beautiful act of hospitality when we say at the beginning of the Haggadah: “Let all who are hungry come and eat; let all who need come and celebrate Pesach with us.”
In the homes of Yerushalayim, people gathered in groups of families, friends, and guests called Haburot (singular: Habura). Each Habura, which could consist of 50, 60, or even up to 100 people, would partake of the same Qorban.

The lamb was brought on the afternoon of the 14th of Nisan to the Bet haMiqdash by one or two representatives of each Habura, and it was sacrificed while the Hallel was recited.

There is a beautiful custom, still practiced today in a few communities, that was observed for centuries in remembrance of this Hallel on the eve of Pesach. Do you know when people used to bake the Matsot used for the Pesach Seder? On the 14th of Nisan! That is, in the afternoon of the eve of Pesach, at the very time the Qorban was sacrificed. This is in fact the ideal time to prepare Matsot—just as we prepare Halot on a regular Friday afternoon. And while preparing the Matsot, the family would sing the Hallel!

Let’s return to Yerushalayim. After being slaughtered, the animal was roasted whole and brought back home. That night, already the 15th of Nisan, the Seder was conducted—very much like we do today. The Haggadah was read, the Ma Nishtana questions were asked, and a large meal was served, including other offerings such as the Korban Hagiga, and all accompanied, of course, by Matsa, Maror, and Haroset. People reclined on couches or cushions and ate like nobles. They drank four cups of tempered wine, toasting to our salvation, redemption, freedom, and our assignment as the chosen people.

At the end of the meal, before midnight, the Qorban Pesach was distributed as the Afiqoman (the final course or “dessert”) among all members of the Habura. Everyone had to eat at least a portion the size of an olive (Kazait).

Today, we remember the Qorban Pesach by placing a shank bone on the Pesach tray (or a chicken leg among Ashkenazim). At the end of the Seder, we also eat an additional portion of Matsa, the Afiqoman, saying: “We eat this Matsa in memory of the Qorban Pesach, which was eaten when one was already satisfied.”

After eating the Qorban Pesach, we recited the Birkat haMazon, the blessing of gratitude to HaShem for our food.

Towards midnight, once the Pesach meal was complete, something truly “magical” happened. People would go up to the terraces of their homes and from there, looking toward the Bet haMiqdash—illuminated by the full moon—they would sing the Hallel, the Psalms of Tehillim recited to thank HaShem for freeing us from Egypt.

I believe this was the most beautiful moment of the night: the voices of hundreds of thousands of Yehudim, the entire Jewish People, coming together to sing the Hallel, all at once, with one melody, filling the holy city with that extraordinary song. The Gemara says that the voices of this multitudinous chorus were so powerful that the city literally “trembled.”

To preserve the memory of that beautiful Hallel and make it part of our national memory, we all sing the Hallel together in the synagogue before the Seder begins.

May HaShem grant us the merit to sing the Hallel next year, all together, in Yerushalayim, with one voice before our Bet haMiqdash. AMEN.

יהי רצון שנזכה לחגוג את חג הפסח בבנין בית תפארתינו במב”י, אמן

Understanding the Never-Ending Palestinian Conflict

WRITTEN FEBRUARY 2024

RELIGION AND TERRITORY

Today, I am going to address a topic related to Islam, which must be known to more appropriately understand whether the creation of a Palestinian state that US President Joe Biden has proposed in recent days will promote peace in Israel and the Middle East.

What meaning does territory have in different religions?

In Christianity, religious issues are separated from political issues. Let us remember the famous phrase: “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s,” which imposes the division between church and state as two separate entities. In Christianity, there is also no idea of national territory or the religious obligation that all Christians must live in a specific country in the future. Christians do not have territorial ambitions or territories that they aspire to conquer or liberate for religious purposes (ironically, the only exception I can think of is “Jerusalem,” but I think that was in the times of the Crusaders.) Although Christianity embraces the ideal of evangelizing humanity, it does not intend to militarily conquer all the countries in the world to achieve that goal.

Judaism is different: we are a political religion. And we have territorial ambitions. Our millennial aspiration is to have our own sovereign state in the land of Israel. However, beyond the land of Israel, we Jews do not embrace the goal of conquering other lands or imposing our Torah on any other people. Not even in messianic times. When the Messiah arrives, we do not intend to conquer the world (as the anti-Semitic tract “The Protocols of the Elders of Zion” falsely alleges) but rather to live in our land, Israel, guided by our Tora, to serve our God in the Bet HaMiqdash—the Holy Temple of Jerusalem—and living in peace with our non-Jewish neighbors.

Islam is a different story. And it is essential for Israel and for the Jews of the world to know what their actual “territorial ideals” are. We need to understand who we are dealing with and not repeat the mistakes made in the past, for example, in the Oslo agreements.

ISLAM AND OCCUPIED TERRITORIES

For Islam, there are two types of territories:

1. “Dar Al-Islam” defines the lands that are ruled or “were ever ruled by Muslims.”

2. Dar Al-Harb is a land that is not yet under Muslim sovereignty but that one day, eventually, will be. This theoretically includes the entire planet Earth. Because, unlike the Jews, Islam has the “messianic,” “utopian” aspiration that everyone converts to Islam. This explains a little better one of the most serious problems of the West: that Muslim immigrants who arrive in Europe, for example, not only have no intention of “integrating” into the culture of the countries that offer them refuge but also, on the contrary, in the long term, they have the aspiration of imposing Sharia, Islamic law, on the countries they arrive.

(There is also a third category, less known, which is Dar Al-Salam: the land of peace. That is, the planet Earth will enjoy peace when the entire world finally accepts Islam and follows Sharia. Only at that moment will there be definitive and lasting peace. And until then, Muslims must do everything possible to achieve this religious and political vision. For more information, see this phenomenal article in Hebrew ).

WHAT ABOUT ISRAEL?

For Muslims, the land of Israel falls into the first category: “Dar Al-Islam, a territory that Islam once ruled, that is, “occupied territories.” Israel was indeed conquered and ruled by Caliph Omar in the 7th century. And once this occurs, the land becomes sacred, and no matter how much time has passed, according to Islam, it can no longer be ruled by non-Muslim infidels. Suppose non-Muslims want to live in the lands of Dar Al-Islam. In that case, according to Islam, they can do so only if they submit to Muslim sovereignty and accept the supremacy of Islam (dhimmis).

But if non-Muslim infidels rule and inhabit these lands, they are considered an illegal occupying force. For Islamist states like Iran, or those that identify with the Muslim Brotherhood, Qatar, or Turkey, it is a religious duty to recover those lands. And for the most extreme Muslims, jihadists, such as Hamas, Hezbollah, or the Huties of Yemen, recovering those occupied lands and attacking the invader “is an act of legitimate defense” (sic.), and they must resort to “jihad”, the holy war –which calls for the genocide of the enemy–to achieve it.

AND THERE WAS LIGHT!!!

When this point is understood, it becomes clearer what is seemingly meaningless in the claims and actions of Palestinians and other Arab Islamist and jihadist groups towards Israel.

Let’s look at some examples:

1. The concept of occupation is not a political concept. In reality, as everyone knows, there was never a previous Palestinian state, which Israel is now occupying. In the context of Dar Al-Islam, “occupation” is a religious, Islamic term that refers to the sovereignty of infidels, in this case “Jewish” over a Muslim territory.

2. Therefore, the “occupied territories” claimed by jihadists are not limited to Judea and Samaria or Gaza but to the entire land of Israel, including Jerusalem, Haifa, and Tel Aviv. It is for this reason that one will never hear in pro-Palestinian demonstrations a call for the creation of two states, one Israeli and one Palestinian, living in peace with each other. What the pro-Palestinians demand is “one state,” the Palestinian one, from the river to the sea (from the Jordan River to the Mediterranean Sea).

3. This also explains why Hamas justifies its massacre with the excuse of the Israeli “occupation” when we all know that Israel withdrew from Gaza in 2005 and has NOT had any soldiers in Gaza since that year. But for the Palestinians, Gaza or Judea and Samaria are not enough. They have to expel the Jews from all “Palestinian” territory.

4. It is then demonstrated that the conflict with the Palestinians is not territorial in the conventional sense. A classic territorial problem between two countries is resolved through war or negotiating territory. After wars or negotiations, countries established stable and peaceful relations, though this was not always immediate. For instance, despite the annexation of Texas and the Mexican-American War in the 19th century, the U.S. and Mexico eventually became neighbors with strong diplomatic and amicable ties. However, since the Palestinian conflict with Israel is not merely territorial but rather a religious conflict, there is little room for negotiations or concessions. And it is for this reason that Islamists WILL NEVER RECOGNIZE A JEWISH STATE IN A TERRITORY OF THE “GIVEN TO ISLAM” CATEGORY, no matter how small this state may be.

5. This also explains why Hezbollah attacks Israel. Israel does not “occupy” Lebanon, and Hezbollah cannot have territorial claims against Israel. Still, as a jihadist religious group, it fights against non-Muslim sovereignty in Dar Al-Islam.

6. This is why Iran, an Islamic state, fights for the destruction of Israel, even though it has no border with Israel. And why the Islamist Huties of Yemen have written on their flag as part of their existential mission: “Death to Israel” even though the Jewish State is 5,000 kilometers away from Yemen.

7. The religious obligation to liberate territories occupied by non-Muslims in Dar Al-Islam explains why Hamas or Hezbollah or the Palestinians of Judea and Samaria use their mosques as military bases and hide weapons and ammunition, soldiers, etc. there. After all, the war they are fighting is not for military but religious purposes. It is logical, then, that religious institutions are at the service of jihad. Only in this last incursion into Gaza after October 7 did the Israeli army attack and destroy mosques and expose the hypocrisy of the United Nations, which always demanded immunity for religious institutions, knowing that Palestinians in Gaza and Judea, and Samaria use these facilities for military purposes. Something similar happens with hospitals, schools, and facilities of the infamous UNRWA.

8. The idea of Dar Al Islam also explains why confiscating territory from the Palestinians in Gaza is the most effective measure to punish the October 7 massacre and other terrorist acts and will be the only thing that can deter them when they try in the future. to repeat a similar attack: if they mess with Israel, they will lose territory of Dar Al-Islam (nakba). This will be the worst defeat for them, politically and religiously.

9. The jihadists practice a double discourse: on the one hand, the religious one, the internal dialogue from the mosques, where they tell the truth about their final objective with inexplicable impunity: destroying Israel is the first step, and starting the jihad against the West.

On the other hand, there is propaganda for the ears of Hamas accomplices: the United Nations, the media, the Red Cross, Amnesty International, and the International Commission on Human Rights, to name just a few examples. In all these forums, there is a pact of silence by which they will never mention the religious aspect of this conflict. On the contrary, and knowingly, they will describe Israel as the aggressor; they will disguise the problem of jihad as Israeli “colonialism.” And there are also the useful idiots, the atheist leftists, who, in their insane psychopathic deviation from good to evil, end up supporting the most fundamentalist theological doctrine: Jihad.

10. Only once we understand the concept of “Dar Al-Islam” do we know the supreme naivety of the statements of the American Secretary of State Anthony Blinken about declaring a Palestinian state “attentive to the legitimate aspirations of the Palestinians.” The final aspiration of the Palestinians – and in this sense, there is no difference between Hamas and the Palestinian Authority – is for Israel to disappear from the map, to vacate ALL of its territories, from the Jordan River to the Mediterranean Sea. But the most immediate “strategic” aspiration of the Palestinians is to create a state that borders Israel. Have Israel at a zero distance from there to produce more and more massacres in the style of October 7, and thus, one day destroy the infidel Jews who occupy “Dar Al-Islam”.

And despite all this, Israel B”H will prevail, free itself from its enemies, and triumph.

How do I know?

וְהִיא שֶׁעָמְדָה לַאֲבוֹתֵינוּ וְלָנוּ

שֶׁלֹּא אֶחָד בִּלְבָד עָמַד עָלֵינוּ לְכַלּוֹתֵנוּ

אֶלָּא שֶׁבְּכָל דּוֹר וָדוֹר עוֹמְדִים עָלֵינוּ לְכַלּוֹתֵנוּ

וְהַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא מַצִּילֵנוּ מִיָּדָם

And that promise of protection that God made to our ancestors, which protected them, will protect us, too. Because it was not a single time that our enemies wanted to destroy us; in reality, new enemies that seek our destruction emerge in each generation. But again and again, the Holy One, saves us from their hands.

Rabbi Yosef Bitton

Israel is facing an enemy that does not intend to stop with the destruction of Israel ח”ו, but instead wants to continue fighting against Western civilization.

Israel is at the forefront of this battle of civilizations or religions. And although Israel inexplicably has the world against it, little by little, some countries and world leaders, such as the future Prime Minister of Holland Geert Wilders, are seeing it.

¿AFTER ISRAEL? Spain & Portugal

This phenomenal article from BBC 2016 (Spanish) explains the concept of Dar Al Islam in a little more depth and mentions which countries are in this category: Israel is the first because it is in the Middle East, but it is not the last.

For jihadist … there is a sacralization of the land. Any territory that has been part of Islam at some point will always be part of Islam. It does not matter that control was lost centuries ago, that Muslims do not exist or are a minority in that territory. That is Islamic land and those who occupy it are invaders….

Al Andalus was the territory that remained under Islamic rule in the Iberian Peninsula from the arrival of the Muslims, in 711, until the fall of the Kingdom of Granada, in 1492 into the hands of Castile.

At its maximum extent, in the 8th century, Andalus covered practically the entire peninsula…

The territory that “must be recovered” extends from Southeast Asia in the East to the Iberian Peninsula in the West.

That doctrine – as Azzam wrote in 1987 – proclaims that “jihad or holy war will remain an individual obligation until all the other lands that were Muslim return to us and Islam reigns in them again before us are Palestine, Lebanon, Chad, Eritrea, Somalia, Philippines, Burma, southern Yemen, Tashkent and Andalus [that is: Spain and Portugal .Y.B].

Shabbat Sheqalim

In the time of the Bet haMiqdash, the Temple of Jerusalem, communal sacrifices (qorbanot) were offered daily on behalf of the entire Jewish people. This representation was not merely theoretical, nor did it depend solely on the proper intent of those responsible for performing the sacrifices: the Kohanim. The participation of the people was established in a very practical way: every year, in the month of Adar, a special tax was collected—machatsit hasheqel, or “half-sheqel”—which had a fixed amount, the same for both the poor and the wealthy. The money collected in this national fundraising effort was used to purchase the animals for the qorbanot. The daily communal sacrifices and the additional sacrifices (musafim) for Shabbat, Rosh Chodesh, and the festivals were all bought with the funds from these sheqalim. In this way, every Jew had an equal share in the offering of the sacrifices.

The machatsit hasheqel was collected during the month of Adar because the Temple’s fiscal year began the following month: Nisan.

The money collected from the sheqalim was also used for the maintenance and general expenses of the Temple, but not for its construction. As we read in Parashat Terumah, the funds to build the Mishkan (the Sanctuary in the desert) and later, to construct the Bet haMiqdash, came from voluntary donations. In other words, the Temple’s finances depended on a system that combined donations with a fixed tax (a kind of membership fee) collected in the month of Adar.

Since every individual contributed the same amount, the collection of the sheqalim (plural of sheqel) also served as an annual demographic census.

Today, to remember the collection of the sheqalim:

We read Parashat Sheqalim on the Shabbat before Rosh Chodesh Adar (or on Shabbat Rosh Chodesh when they coincide).
We give a fixed, flat donation as a symbolic act to commemorate the machatsit hasheqel.

In our community it is suggested that every adult male donate $10. This money can be allocated to any charitable cause, including synagogue maintenance, Jewish education, or other acts of tzedakah.

In many communities, it is customary to collect these donations on the Fast of Esther .

It is important to emphasize that we are not donating the actual “half-sheqel,” something that, God willing, we will be able to do once we have the Bet haMiqdash again. Instead, this is a ZEKHER LEMACHATSIT HASEQEL, a commemoration of the half-sheqel.

Image of the Half-Sheqel Coin from the Second Temple Era

(Approximately 50-60 CE)
On the left side, in ancient Hebrew script, it reads: Sheqel Yisrael (“Sheqel of Israel”).
On the right side, it reads: Yerushalayim HaQedoshah (“Jerusalem, the Holy”).

Great News About Hamas!

TERUMA: Are Jews generous?

FORCED LABOR

In this week’s Parasha, Teruma, we begin reading about the Mishkan or Tabernacle, which was the Temple built by the people of Israel in the desert. The Mishkan contained several sacred artifacts (כלים), including the Ark of the Covenant, which housed the two Tablets of the Law; the Menora and a special Table (shulchan hapanim); and the incense altar. All these objects were made of pure gold. Additionally, there were other artifacts and vessels in the Tabernacle made of silver or copper, beams of a special acacia wood, and curtains crafted with very fine fabrics.

The question that arises is: where did Moshe acquire these precious metals and other materials necessary for constructing the Mishkan? When pagan kings constructed temples, often dedicated to themselves, they would tax or confiscate the people’s wealth to do so. Moreover, labor was imposed upon them: slaves, prisoners of war, or the families of the kingdom would send their children to work for the crown for several months or years. The Jewish people experienced this for several generations in Egypt. One might have expected, therefore, that following this example, Moses would have forced the people to pay high taxes and recruit labor by force to construct the tabernacle.

VOLUNTARY WORK

However, in the desert, things were quite different. Moshe did not have to resort to taxation or force people to work, as the Jewish laborers came “voluntarily.” They “donated” the woods, fabrics, precious metals, and other necessary materials. Moshe merely had to make a request for these donations, and the people responded with generosity that came straight from the heart. The Torah (Shemot chapter 25) attests to this by stating, “HaShem spoke to Moshe saying: Tell the children of Israel to take/donate an offering for Me; you will take the donation of everyone whose heart moves him to do it.” But how did the Jewish people react to Moshe’s call? We find the answer ten chapters later in the Torah, which devotes a significant amount of space to detailing every aspect of the Bet haMiqdash’s construction (as well as recounting the unfortunate episode of the golden calf, but that is a separate matter). In Shemot chapter 35, the Torah states, “the children of Israel, all the men and all the women whose hearts moved them to donate something for the construction that HaShem asked the children of Israel to do through Moshe, who brought a voluntary offering.”

THE OPPOSITE OF DEFICIT

The Torah recounts an extraordinary event, likely unique in the history of philanthropy. Not only was nothing missing, but in the end, there was a surplus of donations. This is described in the 36th chapter of Shemot, where it says that the people brought their freewill offerings every morning, and the men in charge of the sanctuary work reported to Moshe that the people were bringing more than was needed. Moshe then declared that no further donations were necessary, as the materials were already abundant.

The word “surplus” is not often used when it comes to non-profit donations, but the people of Israel were so generous that there was excess. One must also consider where the Jewish slaves obtained such valuables. The Torah tells us that before leaving Egypt, the Jews claimed compensation from the Egyptians for their years of work, and were given objects of great value. This was the first time that the Hebrew slaves owned such items, and it is not typical for someone to part with something of value when they have it for the first time.

The generosity shown by the Jewish people is incredible and unparalleled in ancient history, and perhaps even in modern times. It is also noteworthy that the Jewish leaders declared the surplus and did not keep it, as a king or ruler might have done. This reflects the honesty of the Jewish leaders, as described in Perashat Pequde.

The history of generosity and altruism that began in the Mishkan is repeated every day by the Jewish people around the world. While we may not hear much about these acts of kindness, they are often done anonymously, without recognition or fanfare.

ANONYMOUS CHARITY

Beyond the kindness represented by giving in abundance, the epitome of altruism and generosity is anonymity. Nobody in the Mishkan wanted their name to be mentioned on a special plaque or something similar. The Mishkan was consecrated to Bore Olam, the Creator, and the offerings were completely anonymous. This reminds me of a true story that I witnessed in Israel. It involves a way of practicing Tsedaqa that I consider admirable since it includes three elements: generosity, anonymity, and surplus.

A generous man, let’s call him Mr. Cohen, travels to Israel every year to give Tsedaqa, among other things. As we know, the highest way to practice Tsedaqa is to help the poor people of Israel. Throughout the year, Mr. Cohen “sets aside” some of his income for this generous purpose. Once in Israel, Mr. Cohen visits cities and neighborhoods where there are poor or needy Abrejim or people without many resources. He goes to the neighborhood store (every year he tries to visit a different neighborhood) and asks the storekeeper if he gives credit to his customers, which is very common in Israel. The grocer shows him a notebook with the debts of dozens of families, usually with many children, who have significant debts with the grocer on account of the food they buy for their children: bread, milk, sugar, spreadable cheese, tomatoes, and cucumbers – the staple diet of a low-income family in Israel.

Mr. Cohen writes the grocer a check for the value of the debt and then leaves another 5,000 Shequels for the expenses of the most needy families. This story of generosity and altruism that began in the Mishkan repeats itself permanently. Far from the anti-Semitic prejudice that Jews are greedy, statistics show that our co-religionists outperform members of other religions in acts of philanthropy. If we do not hear more about these acts of kindness, it is because the most important acts of philanthropy are carried out anonymously, without any interest in appearing, just as in the Mishkan.

MISHPATIM: Who wrote the Tora?

This week’s Parasha contains a large number of Mitsvot: 53. Almost all of these precepts are categorized as mishpatim, or civil laws. This code of laws, which complements the Ten Commandments, begins unexpectedly by establishing the rights of slaves. The Tora states that a slave must be treated with respect, cannot be humiliated or subjected to degrading labor, and if their master physically harms them, they must be set free. Above all, their period of servitude is limited to six years, and when it ends, they do not leave empty-handed—the master must compensate them.

The Tora also addresses the rights of a young woman working as a servant, explaining that she must be treated with dignity. If the master decides to marry her to his son—something that was not uncommon—her husband cannot discriminate against her or treat her with fewer rights than a regular wife.

If we review the oldest legal codes, such as the Code of Hammurabi or the Hittite laws, contemporaries of Abraham Abinu, we notice a clear element. These laws focus on the rights of masters, the owners of slaves: in the Code of Hammurabi, law 282, for example, states that “if a slave says to his master: ‘You are not my master,’ his ear shall be cut off.” In the Hittite laws, if someone harmed a slave, they had to pay compensation. But to whom? Not to the slave but to the owner, as if it were a broken object. In both cases, the most vulnerable had neither voice nor rights.

Why did the laws of ancient peoples not mention the rights of slaves? Because laws were always written to benefit and protect the interests of the most powerful: kings, rulers, and aristocrats, who were often the owners of slaves. Slaves, who at that time made up more than two-thirds of the world’s population, had no voice or power to influence legislation.

Legal codes were written by the powerful to protect their interests: to maintain their authority as masters and deter any attempt at rebellion.

But who, then, could have written laws that protect slaves? Whose interests were being protected, and why?

It is also surprising that the Tora began the code of mishpatim with the rights of slaves. The Code of Justinian in imperial Rome, for example, begins by proclaiming the supremacy of the emperor and demanding that his authority be respected, ensuring that anyone who violates this law will be punished with death. The priority is to protect the ruler’s power, maintain the empire’s order, and punish rebels. No code begins with the rights of ordinary citizens—and even less so with the rights of slaves.

We can determine who wrote a law with a simple question: Who benefits from it? Laws always benefit those who draft them. And those who write them are usually the most powerful, those in power. They need rules that help them preserve their authority—not to benefit the most vulnerable.

However, the Tora completely breaks this pattern. Its laws are not written from the perspective of the master but from that of the slave. They do not seek to preserve the authority of the powerful but to guarantee the dignity and rights of those without power. The Tora protects slaves, widows, and orphans—the most vulnerable, who had no one to defend them.

Let’s see, for example, the severity with which the Tora condemns abuses against the defenseless:

“You shall not mistreat any widow or orphan. If you mistreat them and they cry out to Me, I will surely hear their cry. My anger will be aroused, and I will kill you with the sword; your wives will become widows and your children orphans.” (Shemot 22:21-24)

Who could have written these laws? Slaves? Widows? Orphans who were in power? The rulers? For what purpose would rulers and masters limit their own authority?

The obvious conclusion is that the only author of the Tora is God, the Creator of the world and humanity—the only King and Ruler who cares, first and foremost, about protecting the most vulnerable.

TERUMA: Parasha Summary

This Parasha describes God’s instructions to Moses to invite the people to contribute whatever they can or want to contribute to the construction of the Tabernacle. The necessary materials included precious metals, fabrics, skins, linen, wood, spices, precious stones, etc. God gave detailed instructions to Moses about the construction and dimensions of the Tabernacle and its artifacts. First, the text describes the Ark that would contain the tablets of the Law. The Ark was to be made of acacia wood and covered in gold, with rings at its corners where poles could be inserted for transportation. The Ark would be covered with a pure gold lid, and two gold cherubim would be made from this cover.

Next, instructions were given for constructing the Table for the Bread of the Presence, which was also made of acacia wood and covered in gold. Then, the construction of the Menorah, the seven-branched candlestick that was to be made from a single block of pure gold with decorative terminations, was described.

The Torah then describes the construction of the Tabernacle’s sanctuary. The cover of the Sanctuary would consist of several tapestries: the first would be a combination of colorful wool and linen, and the second layer would be made of goat’s hair. These two large covers would also cover the exterior walls of the Tabernacle. The top of the Tabernacle would then be covered with dyed ram skins and skins of “tachash” (an animal whose identification is subject to discussion). The walls of the Tabernacle were to be made with acacia wood beams covered in gold. The bottom of each beam had to be inserted into two silver bases. The east side of the Tabernacle would be open, and its north and south sides would have 20 beams, while the west wall would have eight. The beams were joined by several crossbars.

The Tabernacle’s sanctuary consisted of two sections: the innermost chamber was the most sacred space where the Ark would be placed. The outer chamber, Hejal or Qodesh, would house the Menorah, the Golden Table, and the Altar of Incense.

Moses was then given instructions for the construction of the Altar. This altar was to be made of acacia wood covered in bronze and was to have four vertical projections at its corners. The altar was also to be made with rings and transportation poles.

The Tabernacle’s courtyard was to be 100 cubits (approximately 50 meters) by 50 cubits and was enclosed by linen curtains. The entrance to the courtyard was to be on its east side, covered by a woven wool and linen curtain.

TERUMA: Respect For What You Were

This week’s Parasha describes among other things the Ark of the Covenant, or aron haberit. The Ark was inside the Qodesh HaQodashim, the most sacred area of the Mishkan or tabernacle.

What was inside the Ark of the Covenant? Among other things: a scroll of the Tora, a sample of the man and the rod of Aron haKohen. The Ark also contained the two Tablets with the Ten Commandments. But what happened with the first set of tablets that Moshe broke when he saw the People of Israel worshiping the golden calf?

What happened with the remains or pieces of the broken first Tablets? Our Rabbis assert that the fragments of the first tablets were also placed inside the Ark, next to the second Tablets (לוחות ושברי לוחות מונחים בארון).

And what can we learn from the fact that both the new Tablets and the remains of the first Tablets were in the same sacred place, same category?

1. We learn that an element that had qedusha (holiness) cannot be discarded in a dishonorable way. This is why religious objects that carry the name of HaShem – say a Sefer Tora, Tefilin, a Mezuza – when can no longer be used they cannot be thrown away. We keep them until they can be buried. That is why in every synagogue there is a Geniza, usually a large box, where these and other religious objects or books that are no longer used are placed. And eventually all these elements will be taken to a cemetery where they are buried. According to Shulhan Arukh, a sefer Tora that has some unfixable imperfection (pasul) should be buried next to a Talmid Hakham.

2. The Hakhamim also learned a great lesson from the fact that the remains of the old Tablets were kept next to the new tablets. If a respected Tora scholar is affected by Alzheimer or senility, and loses his knowledge and wisdom he should still be treated with the same respect. This individual is like the old broken Tablets. The content is gone and the wisdom completely shattered. And still we should not stop honoring him!

We learn from the fact that the Ark contained in the same place the new and the old “broken” tablets that we owe this person the same respect and honor that we gave him before.

“Am Israel” is a leading example in terms of how much values honor parents, scholars and elders, regardless of their present mental condition. It is important to keep this in mind because we live in a society that appreciates and honors people, only when they are useful.

Our Tora teaches us to honor not just what a person is but also what a person was.