Thursday, April 2, 2009

Eight Candles of Consciousness

"Eight Candles of Consciousness"


A collection of essays on Hanukkah and non-violence by Rabbi Yonassan Gershom (author of "Beyond the Ashes," etc.) covering 30+ years of his war resistance

An 85-page PDF ebook file on a data CD that can be read on any computer using Adobe Reader(If you don't have Adobe Reader, you can download it FREE on the official Adobe.com site.)


Although Rabbi Gershom is best known for his books on reincarnation (Beyond the Ashes, From Ashes to healing, and Jewish Tales of Reincarnation,) he is also a lifelong pacifist and peace activist, who has written many articles on Judaism and non-violence. During the 1970s and 80s when he was living in Minneapolis, he was a familiar figure at rallies and protests. Today he continues his activism via the Internet . This book contains the best of his writing on peace and justice over the last 40 years. Included is his kabbalistic Hanukkah service, "Eight Candles of Consciousness," based on correspondences between the meditative chakras and the sefirot on the Kabbalah Tree of Life.On this auction page, you can read the entire Author's Introduction, and/or scroll down for the Table of Contents.

The Author's Introduction:
Most of the material in this book was first published over two decades ago. Why reprint these articles now? Because a new generation of Jews has grown up since then — a generation that, by and large, is totally unaware of the non-violent traditions within Judaism.

“The gentle Jews are gone,” wrote Chaim Potok in his book, Wanderings. Sadly, that is mostly true. As Israel’s former Prime Minister, Golda Meir, said back in the 1960s, “I can forgive the Arabs for attacking. But I cannot forgive that Jewish boys had to learn how to kill.” The very fact that soldiering was seen as something unusual for Jews shows that most were, if not actual pacifists, then at least basically non-violent people. Sadly, this is true no more.

My generation – the post-Holocaust “Baby Boomers” – marked the transition from 2000 years of Jewish pacifism into the militarism of Israeli society today. We saw the martyrs of the Holocaust labeled as “cowards who did not fight back.” We saw King David glorified into a war hero instead of “the sweet singer of psalms.” And we saw Judah Maccabee – who was not even mentioned by name in the Talmud – resurrected into a Jewish Rambo.

In Israel today, all citizens, male and female, are required to do military service, except for some Orthodox groups who are then disparaged by their fellow citizens as “social parasites.” (See “Yeshiva Students not Undermining the War Effort.”) “Jewish pacifist” is now considered an oxymoron, as each day we are confronted with more violence between Israel and her neighbors. Secular conscientious objectors are often jailed for refusing to serve in the Israeli armed forces. Even the choice of biblical Hebrew over Yiddish as the national language of Israel reflects the rejection of our mostly non-violent past.

The transformation of Hanukkah from “The Miracle of the Oil” into “The Victory of the Maccabees” is symbolic of this shift. When I was growing up in the 1950s, Judah Maccabee was rarely mentioned, if at all. We knew a war had taken place, but that wasn’t the focus. Hanukkah was about rekindling the Menorah in the Temple and in our own hearts. For me, with my lifelong interest in nature study, it was also deeply connected to the Winter Solstice. In 1969 I wrote a poem entitled “Season’s Greetings” (included in this collection) which emphasized the connection between the candles of Hanukkah, the lights of Christmas, and the countless fires that have driven away the darkness from the homes of human beings since the dawn of time. Although Hanukkah doesn’t always fall exactly on the Solstice, it does come with a waning moon. Because Jewish months are lunar, when Hanukkah starts on the 25th of Kislev, the moon is always in its last quarter, thereby further emphasizing the contrast between light and darkness.

An old Jewish legend tells how the First Humans experienced their first winter outside the Garden of Eden. As the days grew shorter and the sun sank lower in the sky, Adam and Eve feared that the daylight would disappear altogether. So they began building huge bonfires to signal the sun to return. And gradually, the days grew longer.

Human beings have craved light at this time of year ever since. In an age when electricity allows us to illuminate our homes and streets, it is difficult to really grasp how frightening the long winter nights were to our ancestors. Old Hasidic stories speak of waiting for the moon to rise before continuing a journey – not for any reasons of astrology, but because, without street lights, you literally could not see your hand in front of your face. This is still true in places where light pollution has not obscured the sky. One of the first things I learned after moving to the country was how very dark it can be on a moonless night.

In the years before television, winter was a time for sitting in front of the hearth and listening to traditional stories. So much so, that, in many cultures, specific “Winter Tales” were told only in that season. Even certain crafts were reserved for the long nights indoors. As a Navajo weaver told me, “Only spiders spin in the summer.”

Of course, without the Maccabees, there would be no Hanukkah and probably no Jews. We would have all become Greeks and disappeared as a people. In fact, it has been argued that Hanukkah was the first war fought for religious freedom. Resisting assimilation, standing up for the right to be who you are, refusing to worship the idols of the State – these are important themes. But, as I pointed out in “Armed Resistance is Not the Only Way,” there are alternatives to violence for carrying on this struggle.

There is another, lesser-known resistance story which took place in the time of the Roman Emperor Caligula. This Emperor, like Antiochus, before him, believed himself to be a god. He ordered his statue erected and worshipped in every temple in the land. The people of Jerusalem not only refused, they came out and staged what may well be the world’s first sit-in. Whole families blocked the road into Jerusalem, refusing to move. The Roman general cordoned off the crowd, hoping to cow them into submission with hunger and thirst. Some died, the rest refused to budge.

After three days of this, the Roman general raised his sword and told the people to either clear the road or be killed. The Jews refused to move. Whereupon the general lost heart for a slaughter of non-resisting civilians. Lowering his sword, he disobeyed his emperor and refused to carry out the order. (Based on an account by Josephus.)

In recent years, many Israelis have begun to question whether the military solution is the right way to bring peace. Here is not the place to analyze Mid-East politics. Suffice it to say that, after the war between Israel and Lebanon this year (2006), numerous articles have appeared in the Israeli press, criticizing the war and questioning what, if anything, it actually accomplished. Did bombing Lebanon into rubble make Israel any safer? Or did it create more support for those who want to destroy her? Will building a wall between Israel and Palestine keep terrorists out? Or will it shut Israel away from the rest of the world?

These are the kinds of questions that I was asking twenty years ago, at a time when criticism of Israel was equated with treason in the Jewish community. One reason for publishing this collection of essays now is to bear witness to this legacy of questioning – not to salve my ego, but to re-illuminate the non-violent forms of resistance we never hear about in Hebrew school. (How many Jews today even know about the sit-in recorded by Josephus? ) We need to pass these tales and traditions of war resistance “from generation to generation.” Hence this book.

These essays are the actions and thoughts of one Jewish pacifist. Right now is a hard time to be a war resister, but resist we must, if the world is to survive. May the light of your Solstice fire – in whatever form it may take -- help illuminate the way out of darkness toward the light of peace.


Rabbi Yonassan Gershom
Winter, 2006/5767

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Niccolo Machiavelli, The Prince

Niccolo Machiavelli, a diplomat in the pay of the Republic of Florence, wrote The Prince in 1513 after the overthrow of the Republic forced him into exile. It is widely regarded as one of the basic texts of Western political science, and represents a basic change in the attitude and image of government.

That Which Concerns a Prince on the Subject of the Art of War

The Prince ought to have no other aim or thought, nor select anything else for his study, than war and its rules and discipline; for this is the sole art that belongs to him who rules, and it is of such force that it not only upholds those who are born princes, but it often enables men to rise from a private station to that rank. And, on the contrary, it is seen that when princes have thought more of ease than of arms they have lost their states. And the first cause of your losing it is to neglect this art; and what enables you to acquire a state is to be master of the art. Francesco Sforza, though being martial, from a private person became Duke of Milan; and the sons, through avoiding the hardships and troubles of arms, from dukes became private persons. For among other evils which being unarmed brings you, it causes you to be despised, and this is one of those ignominies against which a prince ought to guard himself, as is shown later on.

Concerning Things for Which Men, and Especially Princes, are Blamed

It remains now to see what ought to be the rules of conduct for a prince toward subject and friends. And as I know that many have written on this point, I expect I shall be considered presumptuous in mentioning it again, especially as in discussing it I shall depart from the methods of other people. But it being my intention to write a thing which shall be useful to him to apprehends it, it appears to me more appropriate to follow up the real truth of a matter than the imagination of it; for many have pictured republics and principalities which in fact have never been known or seen, because how one lives is so far distant from how one ought to live, that he who neglects what is done for what ought to be done, sooner effects his ruin than his preservation; for a man who wishes to act entirely up to his professions of virtue soon meets with what destroys him among so much that is evil.

Hence, it is necessary for a prince wishing to hold his own to know how to do wrong, and to make use of it or not according to necessity. Therefore, putting on one side imaginary things concerning a prince, and discussing those which are real, I say that all men when they are spoken of, and chiefly princes for being more highly placed, are remarkable for some of those qualities which bring them either blame or praise; and thus it is that one is reputed liberal, another miserly...; one is reputed generous, one rapacious; one cruel, one compassionate; one faithless, another faithful.... And I know that every one will confess that it would be most praiseworthy in a prince to exhibit all the above qualities that are considered good; but because they can neither be entirely possessed nor observed, for human conditions do not permit it, it is necessary for him to be sufficiently prident that he may know how to avoid the reproach of those vices which would lose him his state...


Concerning Cruelty and Clemency, and Whether it is Better to be Loved than Feared

Upon this a question arises: whether it is better to be loved than feared or feared than loved? It may be answered that one should wish to be both, but, because it is difficult to unite them in one person, it is much safer to be feared than loved, when, of the two, either must be dispensed with. Because this is to be asserted in general of men, that they are ungrateful, fickle, false, cowardly, covetous, and as long as you successed they are yours entirely; they will offer you their blood, property, life, and children, as is said above, when the need is far distant; but when it approaches they turn against you. And that prince who, relying entirely on their promises, has neglected other precautions, is ruined; because friendships that are obtained by payments, and not by nobility or greatness of mind, may indeed be earned, but they are not secured, and in time of need cannot be relied upon; and men have less scruple in offending one who is beloved than one who is feared, for love is preserved by the link of obligation which, owing to the baseness of men, is broken at every opportunity for their advantage; but fear preserved you by a dread of punishment which never fails.

Nevertheless a prince ought to inspire fear in such a way that, if he does not win love, he avoids hatred; because he can endure very well being feared whilst he is not hated, which will always be as long as he abstains from the property of his citizens and subjects and from their women.
Source

From: Niccolo Machiavelli, The Prince, ed. W. K. Marriott. London: J. M. Dent and Sons, 1908, pp. 117-118, 129-131.