Rabbi Hannah Estrin

Joy and Hate at the Western Wall…..

As Rosh Hodesh Adar Bet begins to wane, I continue to struggle with this morning’s events around the Western Wall area where I went to join Women of the Wall celebrating both Rosh Hodesh and 30 years of struggle for the right to pray as a women’s minyan in this space that attracts so much passion and as I saw this morning, so much hatred.

I am not a monthly attendee at Women of the Wall, as this is not where I find my kavana or ease praising God. But, I do believe in the right of women, who do not fall under the religious auspices of the Rabbi of the Kotel, to pray at this beautiful, historical and religiously significant place. So on their 30^th, and with the joy of Adar, I decided to join them.

Before we ever entered the walls of the Old City we were greeted by police who had closed the road because there was a ‘balegan’ (mayham) happening up the road with the yeshiva girls. There had been a call for the busing in of hundreds of young yeshiva girls from outside of Jerusalem to fill up the plaza and make it difficult (at best) for the women to find a place to pray together. We joined their swarm toward the plaza and after waiting to go through security, where my easily visible Tallit was not disturbed, joined the perhaps 2000 people already filling the plaza.

Having learned in a beit midrash setting where there is always noise, when I have joined WOW for prayers in the women’s section, I have been successful in mostly shutting out the craziness around me. Today was not destined to be one of those days. Twenty minutes prior to the start of davening, we were already unable to make our way to the group forming in the women’s section. We were already being accosted with name calling, pushing, shoving and a few police trying to keep some order.

We decided to remain in the plaza area where our two became four and then a minyan. We briefly discussed praying there in a small quiet group as there were other groups of ultra orthodox girls already praying. But as the sea of now mostly ultra orthodox boys and young men grew, things turned uglier. Rabbi Gilad Kariv. President & CEO of the Israel Movement for Reform & Progressive Judaism, was surrounded by a less than pleasant looking group of black hats. As he moved on, Rabbi Yitzhar Hess, CEO of the Masorti (Conservative) Movement in Israel came into view. Within moments he too, as a public and known figure, was surrounded.

By this time, our small group had been spat upon, yelled at, called names that should not be repeated and were feeling unsafe. But, we were not the target. One of the young men ripped Hess’ tallit off, while others pointed at him yelling. And then, someone (we believe it was Hess) was on the ground being kicked by half-a-dozen youth. As of yet, no police were to be seen. A few of us moved, with great difficulty, to his side to form a barrier. In this process, the shoving, yelling, and hatred increased. I was hit, purposefully, in the back after preventing one of the boys from being pushed to the ground and called horrible things for touching him. Ok, I understand he does not want to be touched by a woman. My reaction was an automatic one to save him from very likely being trampled. Things got worse from there. It felt as if the proverbial powder keg was about to explode – it was only going to take one small thing. It was frightening to be there surrounded by that crowd. The police tried to form a protective barrier but were unable – due to the crowds, under staffing, or some other reason out of our view. I am not entirely sure.

Eventually the plaza quieted a bit and we headed out.

What I experienced today was nothing less than sinat hinam (baseless hatred). The rabbis teach us that the Second Temple was destroyed because of hatred like this. Someone else in our group said that it reminded them of stories from the time of integration and separation in the 60s. And someone else looked at these girls, many of whom looked like deer in headlights, and paralleled their experience to Hitler Youth. They knew why they were there but did they understand it, did they have a choice? My story is one of many that came out of this morning. Many of the stories were similar but I am heartened that among those stories were some of beautiful davening and Torah reading from a scroll.

What happened this morning is a symptom of a larger struggle in Israel about what it means to be a Jewish state. A struggle between the ethics as they are understood from Torah and the morals of larger society based on that same Torah. Today tested my own resolve to remain nonviolent and non-confrontational. We were there to pray and welcome Adar in joy. Today tested my ability to stand up and confront fear for my own person in contrast to the fear for someone else and an ideology in danger. This is unfortunately not the first time I have seen this hatred between Jews here in the holy land, but it is the first time I was grateful my daughter was not with me. And that makes me sad. But, it also strengthens my resolve to continue standing up for the rights of all Jews in the Jewish homeland.

The first thing we say when we wake up in the morning is “Modeh Ani,” we thank God for giving us life. Each evening I write five thankfulls from my day. Tonight, before the sun sets and the peace of Shabbat enters, I will include thankfulness that no one was seriously injured this morning. That although days like today make it challenging to live as a liberal practicing Jew in Israel, we have a voice, we have feet, and in a month we have an opportunity to vote.

May this and every Shabbat be filled with peace, Adar with Joy, and may we find ways to live together in those attributes.