Egyptian in Israel

There are several rivers in or near Israel, whose Hebrew names begin with the syllable "Yar". These include Yarden, Yarkon, and Yarmuk. Yarden and Yarkon are mentioned in Tanach; the first recorded mention of Yarmuk is in the Roman period. Two more rivers - Yabok and Arnon - might hypothetically begin with a distorted version of "Yar". Israel is semi-arid and only a small number of rivers exist there. Of this small number, it’s surprising that so many begin with the same or similar syllable.

It is often proposed to explain this by saying that before the Hebrew/Canaanite language was spoken in Israel, a different language was spoken, and in this language "yar" was the word for river. So the "Den" river was called Yar Den, and when Hebrew/Canaanite became the local language, "Yarden" was retained as a name. Similarly for the other rivers.

What language could it be that was spoken in Israel before Hebrew?

Look around online, and you will find claims that "yar" means river in ancient Egyptian or Akkadian. If you look in online dictionaries for these two languages, in both the main word for "river" does not resemble "yar". But in the Bible "ye'or" is used to refer to Egyptian rivers (the Nile or one of its branches), and according to the Brown-Driver-Briggs Lexicon, this is derived from the Egyptian "iotr" which can be shortened to "io'r". So Egyptian seems like the most likely source for a word "yar". Based on this, we can hypothesize that before Hebrew/Canaanite was spoken in Israel, a language related to Egyptian was. We don't know if this language became extinct through assimilation or violent conquest, but either way it left only a handful of traces, perhaps including our river names.

Thinking about this last night, I thought of an entirely different line of evidence that Egyptian was once spoken in Israel. In Breishit 10, the genealogy of the 70 nations descended from Noach, Canaan is mentioned as a son of Ham, along with Mitzraim, Kush (Ethiopia), and Put (?). This is even though the Hebrew/Canaanite language is Semitic, so one would expect Canaan to be descended from Shem! Evidently the Torah sees something Hamitic about Canaan, even though the local language at the time of the Torah was Semitic.

To be fair, everything I have said so far is speculation, rather than clear-cut proofs. But when you take two "puzzle pieces" from completely different places (hypotheses based on geography and on genealogies), and find that the pieces "match", each of the two hypotheses looks much stronger than it did before.

Thoughts on Shoftim

When you go forth to battle against your enemies, and see horses, chariots, and people more numerous than you, you shall not fear them; for Hashem your God is with you, who brought you up from the land of Egypt. And when you approach the battle, the priest shall approach and speak to the people and say to them: "Hear, O Israel, this day you approach battle against your enemies. Let not your heart faint; fear not, nor be alarmed, or frightened by them, for it is Hashem your God who goes with you, to fight for you against your enemies, to save you." And the officers shall speak to the people, saying: 'What man is there that hath built a new house, and hath not dedicated it? let him go and return to his house, lest he die in the battle, and another man dedicate it...." (Devarim 20:1-5)

According to this passage, two things must be done before Israel fights a battle. The priest exhorts the people not to fear, and the officers tell several classes of people that they may return home without fighting.

Each of these things has its own logic, but what interests me now is the order in which they come. You would expect for the officers' dismissal to come before the priest's exhortation. After all, the best time to dismiss people from the army is when the army is being assembled, while the best time to give an inspiring speech is immediately before the battle. But as it is, the order is reversed. If you have a new wife, house, or vineyard, or if you are afraid, you must still join the army, and travel all the way to the battlefield, and hear the priest's speech before the battle, and only then can you go home. Wouldn't it be easier for such a person not to have to join the army in the first place?

I think that there is a lesson in this ordering, both for the soldiers in the Torah's battles, and for us today. There are people who have good reasons not to fight in battle. But this does not give them an excuse not to be part of the war. They must join the army, travel to the battlefield, experience the same tension everyone else experiences, and only then can they be sent home.

Similarly, certain Israelis today and all Jews abroad, who do not fight in the IDF, must nevertheless feel that they are part of the war, and look for tangible things they can do to help their relatives under fire. I am happy to report than, from what I have heard, in the recent Gaza war this is exactly what happened on a large scale.

Renamed Jerusalem streets

Here is an incomplete list of streets in Jerusalem that have been renamed at some point (mostly in 1948), followed by their original names.

I was planning on adding this to Wikipedia, but I don't see a good place for it.

Keren Hayesod - King George [1]
King David - Julian's Way [1]
King Solomon - St. Louis Way [1]
Shlomtzion - Princess Mary Ave [1]
Straus - Chancellor [1]
Agron - Mamilla Road [1]
Shivtei Yisrael - St Paul's Road [1]
Malchei Yisrael - Geula Road [2]
Herzog - Gaza Road [2]
Usishkin - Yehudah Halevi [3]
KK"L - Shmuel Hanagid [3]

[1] http://www.zionism-israel.com/ezine/Jerusalem_ben_yehuda_bombing.htm
[2] Collins & LaPierre, O Jerusalem, 1972
[3] http://www.haaretz.co.il/hasite/spages/907333.html

Israel and Israeliness

וַיֹּאמֶר ה' אֶל-מֹשֶׁה: עֲלֵה אֶל הַר הָעֲבָרִים הַזֶּה, וּרְאֵה אֶת הָאָרֶץ, אֲשֶׁר נָתַתִּי לִבְנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל. וְרָאִיתָה אֹתָהּ, וְנֶאֱסַפְתָּ אֶל עַמֶּיךָ גַּם אָתָּה, כַּאֲשֶׁר נֶאֱסַף אַהֲרֹן אָחִיךָ. כַּאֲשֶׁר מְרִיתֶם פִּי בְּמִדְבַּר צִן, בִּמְרִיבַת הָעֵדָה, לְהַקְדִּישֵׁנִי בַמַּיִם לְעֵינֵיהֶם: הֵם מֵי מְרִיבַת קָדֵשׁ מִדְבַּר צִן.
וַיְדַבֵּר מֹשֶׁה אֶל ה' לֵאמֹר: יִפְקֹד ה' אֱלֹהֵי הָרוּחֹת לְכָל בָּשָׂר, אִישׁ עַל הָעֵדָה. אֲשֶׁר יֵצֵא לִפְנֵיהֶם, וַאֲשֶׁר יָבֹא לִפְנֵיהֶם, וַאֲשֶׁר יוֹצִיאֵם, וַאֲשֶׁר יְבִיאֵם; וְלֹא תִהְיֶה עֲדַת ה', כַּצֹּאן אֲשֶׁר אֵין לָהֶם רֹעֶה.
(במדבר כז יב-יז)

The phrase "vaydaber hashem el moshe lemor" is common throughout the Torah. Here, I believe, is the only time we have the reverse phrasing: "vaydaber moshe el hashem lemor". This is noteworthy because "vaydaber" is generally understood to mean a harsh statement or a command (see for example Shemot 6:2 and Bamidbar 32:25-27). It makes sense for God to command human beings. But since when do human beings command God?

Let us explain this in terms of the larger context. Moshe's behavior is a perfect example of what we would now call Israeli chutzpah. He makes harsh demands of his superior - with the understanding that his proposals are for the good of the superior rather than himself, and that his honesty and directness indicate respect for a superior who is capable of accepting criticism.

As we see, Moshe was not permitted to enter the land of Israel. But perhaps, as a consolation prize, he was allowed to become an Israeli. :)

Ben Gurion story

A young American rabbi, maybe age 30, with no real beard and not looking rabbinic at all, was having trouble with the airport security. The conversation went as follows.

Guard: What's your job?
Rabbi: I'm a congregational rabbi in the US.
Guard: Really? You don't look like one.
Rabbi: אל תסתכל בקנקן אלא במה שיש בו.
Guard: Hmm, OK, have a nice trip.

Carmel fire

One night a couple years ago, I was riding a bus on the Haifa-Tel Aviv freeway, when I encountered one of the most awe-inspiring things I've ever seen. Looking out the window towards the Carmel mountain range, I saw an entire hill being overrun by a forest fire. The flame was several hundred meters across, and almost as tall as it was wide. No lives were lost, and I could not find even a mention of it in the news the next day.

As I write this, a much larger fire is burning in almost exactly the same place. Already 40 lives have been lost, and thousands of people evacuated from their homes.

Along with my shock at the number of casualties, and concern over what may happen in the next few days, the following thoughts have crossed my mind.

1) The first rain in Israel normally falls a short time after Sukkot. Typically, by December, several heavy rainstorms have occurred. But so far this winter, just two small drizzles have occurred. Effectively, there has been no rain since March or April. As the sources suggest, the chief rabbinate has declared two fast days in the last couple weeks, and a special prayer for rain has been added to "Shomea Tefila" of each weekday shemoneh esreh.

There is an impulse nowadays to say that we don't need rain like we did in the past. After all, few people nowadays are farmers, and several large desalination plants are now operating. It's true that a drought will not cause widespread starvation like it once would have. But this fire is a good example of how the lack of rainfall can have consequences that are not easily forseen. A significant rainfall in the days before the fire would have kept it from spreading so fast (or at all). Nobody praying for rain had the possibility of forest fires in mind, yet this fire has killed more Israelis than any other single event in a number of years.

2) For many decades Jews have planted trees throughout Israel. Some even say the "green line" is so called because it separates green Israel from its non-green neighbors. Arabs - opponents of Zionism and people whose culture formed in the desert - have understandably opposed this greening of the land. Israel's landscape is susceptible to forest fires, but a high proportion of fires in recent years have been attributed to arson by those with "nationalist" motivations. If this is another such case, then it may effectively be the worst terrorist attack to occur in many years.

3) At the Chanukah party I was at tonight, the planned music was canceled. The dvar torah was about how fire is both a constructive force, enabling civilization to arise, and a destructive one. Tonight and tomorrow, let us pray that our constructive forces outweigh the forces of destruction, and that the damage caused by this fire be limited.

The OU is haredi?

Purchased at the local makolet, with an "explanation" regarding the unfamiliar American hechsher...

Moshe's view

Last year in September I flew from the US to Israel. For some reason, the plane took an unusual flight path, which let me see a huge part of Israel from "above". Unable to photograph the view, I later recreated it in Google Earth.

This experience reminded me of several verses (Devarim 34:1-4) in parshat Vezot Habracha:

Moshe went up from the plains of Moav to Mount Nevo, the top of the peak which is above Jericho, and Hashem showed him the whole land: the Gilead up to Dan; all of Naftali; the land of Efraim and Menashe; all the land of Yehudah, up to the Mediterranean Sea; the Negev; and the plain, the valley of Jericho, the city of palms, up to Tzoar. Hashem said to him: "This is the land I promised to Avraham Yitzchak and Yaakov saying 'To your offspring I shall give it'; I have shown it to your eye, but you shall not go there."

The areas listed here trace a rough counterclockwise circle, tracing the mountains which surround the Jordan River valley:

It is as if Moshe was scanning his eyes across the incredible view from Mount Nevo, trying to imprint it all into his mind in this last opportunity before he died.

It is the same thing I did from the airplane. The difference being that shortly afterwards, I landed in Israel and have been here ever since. It should be humbling to realize that while I was shown the land just like Moshe was, unlike Moshe I had the opportunity to enter it.

The flight also brought me to more philosophical thinking. From the airplane, I could see everything that happened in Israel, limited only by roofs and the focusing ability of my eyes. And a person on the ground, unless armed with modern weaponry, could not do anything to harm me. It seemed clear to me that the common idea of God being "above" us, in the “heavens”, is in large part a visualization of the ideas of omniscience and omnipotence.

Of course, there was one difference between my "omniscience", in the airplane, and God's. There are skyscrapers in Tel Aviv that when you see them from the ground, even from a distance, they never fail to impress you. From the plane, though, the same skyscrapers barely stood out from their surroundings. This seems like an inherent problem with such "omniscience": the more I saw, the less I was able to examine each thing I saw. God, being infinite, has no such limitation to his omniscience. God is no more impressed by the skyscrapers than I was, but having better "eyesight", is still capable of discerning all of their details.

Yom Yerushalayim

"They spoke of thousands of deaths; there were no bomb shelters. Calls came from the diaspora to send abroad the women and children. On the 8th of Iyar, the entire army was mobilized and there were two weeks of waiting. There were throngs of prayers by Jews of every kind and variety. My daughter told me that in school they did not learn a thing - they only recited tehilim. On Friday night, after the meal, people gathered in the synagogue to say tehilim. There was discomfort and apprehension that are difficult to describe. The danger was felt. ... There was a feeling of Erev Yom Kippur. People looked at each other with love and affection. And then the redemption came."

(Source)

First date

(From here. The translation could probably use some work.)

We walked together at night and it was dark. There was no moon, and the stars provided little light.

We walked and you were silent; we continued to walk...

And you were still silent. It was hard, but I had to give this a chance. Because you are like a princess, introverted and modest. What does your voice sound like?

After five hours of walking and thunderous silence, I almost gave up.

When I lay down at your feet, I heard the commander summarize: "End of night navigation! Welcome to the camp! You navigated 12 km in difficult terrain, without light, while carrying a heavy load on your backs. Six hours from now, we will resume travelling."

I put down the backpack and sighed. Then I heard your voice, so clear and pleasant, a voice still full of longing, "The land of Israel is acquired through suffering." You whispered bitterly, "You heard my silence for five hours, but I heard your silence for two thousand years." I felt embarrassed. Why was I thinking about myself the whole time, how did I not sense your pain? I was ashamed.

Suddenly you appeared in all your beauty, exquisite, bedecked in a wonderful flower dress. On your neck, Kiryat Shmonah was emplaced like a stunning diamond necklace. I wish I could remember more, but I placed my head on your shoulder and only the next morning did I wake up. And travelled.

The end of a night navigation with the patrol division...

Altneuland

I skimmed through Theodor Herzl's book “Altneuland” (available here), published in 1902, curious to see how it corresponded to Israel today. I skipped the parts describing the Jewish state's mostly socialist political arrangements, and focused on descriptions of the landscape and infrastructure.

In general, the correspondence to modern Israel was quite good. I most identified with the following paragraph:

The serpentine road opened wider and wider prospects. Now the city and harbor of Haifa lay before the entranced eyes of the travelers. On the near side the broad bay with its zone of gardens; beyond, Acco with its background of mountains. They were on the summit of the northern ridge of the Carmel. To the right and to the left, to the north and to the south, a magnificent expanse lay spread out before them. The sea glittered blue and gold into an infinite horizon. White-capped waves fluttered over it like gulls toward the light brown strand. David ordered the driver to stop the car so that they might enjoy the unique view. As they alighted, he turned to Freidrich. "See, Dr. Loewenberg, this is the land of our fathers."

This, of course, exactly describes the view from the apartment I lived in last year. (And “serpentine” is definitely a good description of the roads here.) The only difference between Herzl's vision and the modern view is that “the broad bay” between Haifa and Akko now consists of factories and suburbs, not a large park.

Features such as Haifa Bay and the Dead Sea Works, both predicted in the book, have turned out exactly as described. Other projects mentioned, such as a canal to the Dead Sea, are still on the drawing board. The book's focus on Haifa is a result not only of the early Zionist emphasis on settling the North, but on the fact that airplanes had not yet been invented, making Haifa's port the main place of entry to the country. The modern city of Tel Aviv was only founded a few years later, in 1909.

Despite Herzl's generally prescient vision for the Jewish state, there is one detail I cannot forgive him for. In one place, he described a train line going through Tzfat. Anyone who has ever been on the windy mountain roads to Tzfat knows that it's the absolute last place in Israel that a train line would ever be built to.

Aliyah to India

Aliyah to India

Shem

There is a family of American olim I know called the Mendelsohns (name changed). Long ago they decided they didn't want their kids to ever return to the US, and their kids' names should ensure that that never happens.

Each kid has a normal Hebrew name, but their English name – never used except on their US passport – is absolutely bizarre. For example, one kid is named “Mendelsohn Mendelsohn”. Another can truthfully say that “Danger is my middle name”. A third is named “Just Mendelsohn”. So when people ask his name, and he says “Mendelsohn”, and they respond “No, your full name”, confusion ensues.

I've thought of some more names that they should give their next couple kids, if they have any more. First of all, “Who Mendelsohn”. That way they could reproduce ”Who's on First”.

Second of all, “Name Mendelsohn”. Then people would ask “What's your name”, and he would respond “Name”. And the asker would think that the kid misunderstood the question.

If you like this second idea, though, I shouldn't get the credit. Wasn't one of Noach's sons named “Shem”?

Cows

In almost every nature reserve in northern Israel there are herds of cows walking around and grazing.

I used to think how nice it would be to be one of those cows, living all your life in such beautiful and interesting surroundings. (Bear with my anthropomorphism for the moment.)

But then I realized why it is better to be human. The cow spends its entire life in one beautiful location. I, as a person, can eventually see every such location.

Lashon hakodesh

One of the likable traits of some Israelis is that despite their not being at all religious, their conversations are sprinkled with idioms from Tanach and Jewish tradition.

I once went to a one-day class, taught by a secular-looking engineer, which did a good job of exemplifying this. At one point the teacher explained a complicated topic, and upon finishing, showed two other results that were trivial to derive from the initial conclusion. These additional results, he said, were "yotzim hinam ein kesef". Then, near the end of the class, he said "Now that kulanu hachamim, kulanu nivonim..." and began to describe a task we could do with our just-acquired knowledge. These phrases stick in my mind more than two years after I attended the class.

I recently found out that the use of these idioms is not "natural", but rather, was deliberately cultivated by Israeli education. An official Israeli school curriculum guide published in 1954 includes the following directive: "The teacher should nourish in the heart of the pupils a love for the Oral Torah... and should consciously endeavor in his instruction that the pupils absorb the specific idioms and ways of expression of the Mishnah and the Aggadah." (quoted in Tradition 2:2:249)

Those instructions were for the secular, not religious, schools.

In recent years, the secular education system seems to have abandoned this goal. From the experience with student and other young people I have met, it seems clear that they don't make secular Israelis like they used to.

Umatzbia lechol hai ratzon

It's election season in Israel too, and everywhere you see dozens of posters put up by candidates for mayor and the city council. There are candidates proud to represent a particular religious/ethnic constituency, candidates proud to represent a certain political party, candidates proud to non-partisan, candidates running on personal appeal, candidates whose names we don't even know since their party is all that matters, and everything in between.

Most of the posters are boring - some guy's face, name, party, and a superficial platform or cheesy slogan. But some of them go to the opposite extreme. One male candidate's posters show him in a tight T-shirt on a beach. That setting relates to the job he's running for how exactly? But it gets better. One female candidate's poster is a picture of herself with some writing on the side. But it's not a picture of all of her. In fact the picture is only of her legs. The top of the poster is somewhat above her knees, and her feet are near the bottom. So if you want a pair of attractive female legs on the city council, you know who to vote for! Certainly for some people that is a top priority. But I'm surprised that these people are old enough to vote in municipal rather than student government elections.

Achshav-shehu

This evening I invented a new Hebrew word.

עכשיושהו

It means "more or less right now". Like, for example, an answer when people ask you when the bus is coming.

Not a strike this time

For the third consecutive year, the academic year here will be disrupted. This time it's not a strike, but rather the administration locking the students out. The ultimate reason is, as before, cuts in the government funding which the universities need to run on (seeing as tuition is so ridiculously low).

Despite the difficulty this will cause for many people, I am inclined to sympathize with this move, as it really is an important cause. (In all honesty, it must be mentioned that I personally have no more classes to take and little desire to teach and grade them, so it works in my favor, but still.)

Here is a partial translation from the email I just received.

Unfortunately, under conditions created in light of negotiations with the Treasury Ministry, we will not be able to open this academic year.

The higher education system has suffered in the last eight years from budget cuts that do not permit its proper operation.

It is superfluous to name the difficult consequences stemming from the budget cuts and their influence on students' conditions: a decrease in courses offered, canceling of optional courses, crowded classrooms, shortage of faculty and coursework checkers - and these are only a few examples.

The higher education and research system is in a gradual decline. Neglect of higher education and particularly universities is a direct blow to the nation's strength which is founded on creation of knowledge and transfer of it to the next generation, encourages "brain drain" abroad and strangles the excellence that was built through the labor of many years....

Speaking Russian in Israel

Living in a neighborhood with many Russian immigrants and bilingual Russian/Hebrew signs everywhere, I decided it was worth my while to try and learn some Russian this last year. By now I know the alphabet, can read words reasonably well, and know the meaning of a few common words.

It seems to me that Russian speakers learning Hebrew, and vice versa, have a special advantage because those languages share more interesting characteristics than would be expected given their disparate origins. For example:

-The letter for "sh" looks exactly like a Hebrew "shin".
-The alphabet is derived from Greek, making it much more similar to Hebrew than the alphabets used in Western countries.
-The letter "B" by itself is a prefix meaning "in", just like in Hebrew.

In addition, there are many words in modern Hebrew, for example "protektziya" and the name "Netanya", that have a -ya ending. It seems to me that in pre-modern Hebrew this ending was much less common (except when referring to God's name, for example at the end of people's names). But it is very common ending in Russian.

I suspect that when the first Zionists came here from the Russian Empire, starting kibbutzim and formulating the modern Hebrew language, the new words they invented used the "-ya" ending because that was what they were familiar with. Indeed I wonder how many words like "protektziya" sound roughly like the English equivalent, but sound exactly like the Russian equivalent. I have no way of knowing, but suspect it's more than a few.

Early Reform Jews declared that the German language was the best language in which to express spiritual and moral ideas. Whatever the truth of that claim, it does seem that Russian was the most convenient language from which to begin the project of secular Zionism.

Nefesh Benefesh

Nefesh Benefesh does a number of great things to help new olim from the US and other English speaking countries.

There is just one thing they've done wrong, and it was the very first thing they did - choosing their organization's name.

You see, when the phrase "nefesh benefesh" is used in the Torah, it refers to the death penalty for bearing false witness in a murder case!

I wonder if they chose the name knowing this, or if it just got by their name screening committee and since then nobody has had the heart to point it out.