Sunday 26 July 2015

At the docks

The sky was bright blue and Oslo's ultra-modern buildings looked at their very best. We walked around the docks, enjoying each new vista that opened up. The Norwegians seem to like their public art, and we had been admiring a sculpture of an iceberg set in the water a little way from the Opera House. Turning the corner and walking below the fortress, we saw another such sculpture. It consisted of a number of empty chairs, in one and twos, set out on the grass.





An adjacent plaque explained it: from that site, on the 26th November, 1942, 532 Norwegian Jews were put on board the ship Donau and deported to Auschwitz. Others were to follow. The sculpture - the work of Antony Gormley - commemorates it.

I thought I'd share this with you - we found it very moving.

SA

Monday 13 July 2015

The Sarajevo Haggadah

Here's a shortened version of Rabbi's talk about the Sarajevo Haggadah - put here by popular request :)  It marks the 20th anniversary of the Srebrenica Massacre.



... I’ve decided to look at the wider picture, the relationship of the Jewish people  to the former Yugoslavia and to see what can be learned from it ...

We are fortunate in having a survivor! A most remarkable survivor!  A survivor from the Bosnian War, from the Nazis, - and from anti-Jewish persecution going back to the Inquisition and the Expulsion from Spain.  The survivor is not a person, but a book. A familiar book which we have all read in different editions, and re-read from year to year. It is the famous Sarajevo Haggadah. The Sarajevo Haggadah is a work of art, a masterpiece of medieval illumination.  A copy of it will cost you about £140 on Amazon. The original  is kept under lock and key  in Bosnia, access denied to the public. A facsimile is kept a few hundred yards from here in the Rylands Library in Deansgate. The Haggadah is handwritten and illuminated in copper and gold on bleached calfskin.

The Sarajevo Haggadah reflects the whole story of the Jews in the region – and beyond. It was not written in Sarajevo but in Spain - possibly Barcelona. Apparently it was presented as a wedding gift to a couple getting married in Barcelona.

One of its most famous pages is of a family gathered around the Seder Table, and it is believed to depict the family that commissioned it. The Haggadah itself says ‘consider yourself as if you yourself had been saved’, and families would take that literally and include themselves in some way in their book.  [You can see wine stains!]  

 They were clearly well off to have such a book made for them, and would have lived in one of the more tolerant periods under Muslim rule in Spain in the mid-14th century. It was during the convivencia period in Spain, when Jews, Muslims, and Christians all coexisted. At the end of the 15th  Century they, and many other families were flung far and wide, (Muslims too). Many Sephardim arrived in the Balkans, in Bosnia, then ruled by the Ottoman Turks.

They prospered here, despite some restrictions, living side by side with their Muslim neighbors, as one of the largest European centres for Sephardi Jewry in the world. They were generally well-treated and were recognized under the law as non-Muslims. They were granted autonomy, various rights, could buy  real-estate, build synagogues and conduct trade abroad.  Ashkenazim joined them later. By and large they flourished and grew in prosperity up to the twentieth century.


But the Haggadah seems to have found its way there by a roundabout route. From Spain, it somehow found its way to Venice.  There the book came under the hand of the Church censor.  This is known from a hand written inscription in Italian underneath the final lines of the Hebrew text:  “revisto per me”—inspected  by me, words of approval which saved the book from the bonfire.

From Venice, the Haggadah’s whereabouts disappear off the radar until the end of the 19th century. But it found its way to Sarajevo.  It re-appears in the possession of a man there called Josef Kohen, who sold it to the Museum in Sarajevo. When they sent it  to Vienna for assessment and preservation, it was immediately recognized as a great work of art.



The Haggadah’s modern-day tale of survival continued.  During World War II, the Bosnian National Museum’s chief librarian and an Islamic scholar,  risked his life to ensure the book’s safety. In 1942, a Nazi General was visiting the Museum making confiscations. The librarian stuffed the book underneath his shirt. When the Obersturmfuehrer asked for the famous Haggadah, the director told him that one of his officers had already been to the museum and asked for it.  He said he had of course handed it over immediately. When the angered commander asked for the officer’s name, he swiftly replied: “I did not think it was my place to require a name.”

So the Haggadah survived. By 1941, Bosnia-Herzegovina was home to approximately 14,000 Jews. By the end of World War II, only 4,000 Bosnian Jews were still alive. Jews were killed both by Nazi Germans and Croats who assisted in the Jewish extermination.  Sir Martin Gilbert notes that whilst a Muslim SS unit was set up, at the same time many Muslim saved Jews. So it is not clear cut. There were deportations, but mainly massacres on the spot, just like Srebrenica 20 years ago.

The Haggadah spent the remaining war years in a mountain village, where the friend of the man who saved it was the Imam of a small mosque. After the war, when many surviving Bosnian Jews came back, it returned to the museum. But in 1992, the building was almost destroyed by the Bosnian Serbs aiming to make the city ethnically cleansed. They later burned the city’s library to the ground. Once again, the museum’s Muslim librarian secretly stowed the book away, this time in a bank vault . He risked his life doing so driving through a hail of bullets, with the help of police who thought he was mad. His name is Imamovic. And what he said about what he did is important.

He said:  “Although Serb nationalists attempted to separate ethnic identities, most Bosnians — especially those in Sarajevo — didn’t see themselves as Muslims, Croats and Serbs: but part of a shared identity.”   He said, “The city’s Jewish heritage is as important to them as any other because it’s what made Bosnia the rich cultural mix that the nationalists wanted to destroy.”  The Haggadah was a symbol of that.

The book is now kept under shatterproof glass in the Sarajevo National Museum but is inaccessible. The museum is bankrupt; it closed its doors in 2012, unable to pay its employees from then till now.  The State does not care about the museum or its contents, but paradoxically won’t give up the book.  Bids from America and Israel to buy it have failed.  


And so the book that represents freedom and survival through exile is inaccessible - a silent, imprisoned witness to enormous tragedy, its own people’s and the world’s.    Its creators illuminated it for posterity, and  unwittingly, gave it to the world as an inheritance. We have something just as valuable: their story. 

But the Sarajevo Haggadah  is also testimony to a sad fact: surviving so many threats:  expulsion, persecution, war,  theft,  it now faces the greatest threat of all – indifference, apathy towards cultural heritage, in  a country where people of different cultures live parallel lives and struggle for reconciliation.

 That is a threat which we all face, and one which we do well to confront and overcome.