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February 22, 2001

A National Unity Government for L.A.

The more time I spend trailing the Los Angeles mayoral candidates, the more I find myself musing about rehabilitating the commissariat as a form of government. Or, failing such "Red Dawn"/"Red Alert" scenarios, perhaps we might seek something akin to the national unity administration now under contemplation in Israel. I say this not just to be provocative — well not only. It just strikes me as a huge waste of precious talent, integrity and commitment to be forced by a winner-takes-all electoral system to have to pick just one of these outstanding people for mayor while jettisoning the others.

How very novel to feel this way about an impending election, considering the impulse to hold one’s nose that attended the major elections we’ve experienced since the summer in Canada, the U.S. and, most recently, Israel. I’m almost sorry that, as a permanent resident and faithful taxpayer, I do not have the right to vote.

The current mayoral dog-and-pony show wended its way to Valley Beth Shalom (VBS) in Encino this week for what the candidates now purport to be only the 27th (and not, as I reported last week, the 40th) of some 80 prospective face-offs. Trailing after them, I found myself deeply moved (as often I am) by Rabbi Harold Schulweis’s deft assessment of the unusual embarrassment of electoral riches facing us.

"The people who are with us this evening," he intoned, "are men and women who have chosen a career of service to the community. They know that there are no civilizations without cities, and they know that it is their task to see to it that cities remain civilized. For as it is said, ‘Crave for the well-being of the city, because without just governance, a man will swallow up his neighbor.’"

There was certainly no danger of such in this crowd, not least because it is the esteemed rabbi’s enlightened custom that participants who may not be properly introduced begin programs of this nature by embracing those on one’s immediate left and right for a vigorous round of "Hineh Ma Tov." Having made the acquaintance of a fellow Montreal expatriate in this fashion, I recommend this most Californian practice, and would ask the candidates to consider adopting it for future City Council meetings. I would suggest this for the Knesset as well, but I also think of myself as a realist.

In many respects, as I have noted, the candidates for the April election and June runoff share a common sense of the ills that plague this city. In addition, they seem to agree, in a broad sense, on those measures necessary to remedy them. Judging the candidates by their word, no matter who is elected, we can expect renewed emphasis on establishing neighborhood councils, demands for greater personal accountability by city department heads (including the police chief), common-sense solutions to pressing traffic and noise problems, and sustained efforts to improve the school system.

Last week, some may recall, I asked why the candidates for mayor, whose powers have traditionally been restricted to matters of budget, appointing commissioners and exercising veto privileges, spend as much time as they do calling for educational reform. The answer, I learned from State Controller Kathleen Connell and Councilman Joel Wachs, rests in the potential efficacy of the mayor’s office as a bully pulpit.

Mayor Riordon succeeded in placing school reform on the municipal agenda. The other candidates, with almost no exceptions, say they will do whatever they can to maintain this momentum. The result could be a spate of new charter schools, greater parental oversight of teachers and principals, widespread after-school and pre-kindergarten programs, and if real-estate broker and current Parks and Recreation Commissioner Steve Soboroff has his way, the eventual replacement of L.A. Unified by neighborhood school districts.

In addition, the candidates appear to share a sense that while the police department must be held accountable for Rampart, the city’s first priority must be to bolster sagging morale, stem the loss of personnel, and reverse a rising crime rate and attendant decline in arrests.

Why, asks Antonio Villaraigosa, were 68 line officers implicated in the Rampart abuses, but not a single captain, commander or deputy chief? Why, added Wachs, was Chief Parks, who already makes a quarter-million dollars a year, secretly awarded a merit raise of $30,000? How long, asked Soboroff, can we retain a police chief when 85 percent of the force is unhappy with their work, leadership and conditions of employment?

The remedy for this set of ailments, they all attest, lies in establishing greater accountability at the top; fairer disciplinary procedures at the bottom; increased civilian oversight; emphasis on community policing; inducements for police to reside within city limits; flexible work schedules; pensions in line with those of comparable sectors; and most of all, a police chief committed to genuine reform.

If the candidates differ, they do so most glaringly in matters of style. And style, as Connell observed, is an integral component of any municipal administration.

Villaraigosa stresses the need for consensus, for bringing a disparate and polarized population together around common goals and visions. Soboroff wants less talk and more action, preferably the kind that costs nothing but makes for greater efficiency. He is a real-estate broker, and his thing is "closing." Connell emphasizes her experience running a major governmental enterprise, and her successes in holding large and unwieldy institutions to account. Wachs will continue to push for greater transparency in government, and an end to City Hall’s pandering to special interests.

They are all serious in their intent, and I believe each of them, as I think did most in attendance that evening. No, I did not conduct an exit poll to make that call. It was enough to discern the only discordant note of the evening, when Soboroff implied that his rivals were motivated by the kind of job seeking triggered by term limits. This crowd wouldn’t have it. Indeed, there was some hissing. But it virtually kvelled when Wachs recounted how his own parents, who once belonged to VBS, had labored 29 years before to help him gain office.

"Some of you remember how my mother ran the headquarters, because we only had $24,000 to campaign with, and how my father stood in front of Gelson’s and the markets handing out cards that said ‘Vote for my son Joel.’ When the campaign was over, the late Art Seidenbaum did a half-hour special on KCET, not about me, but about the role my mother and father played in the election.

"When it was done — and I’ll never forget this — they asked my father and mother, ‘What do you want out of all this?’ And my father said, ‘I want he should be a good boy.’"

He is. They are all good people. And we are blessed for it.

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Sign of Hope

The sign to the left, posted by Israeli Jewish and Arab students at Technion-Israel Institute of Technology around the elite Rehovot campus, reads: "We, the Arab and Jewish students of the Technion, who daily sit together in the same classrooms in cooperation and friendship, express our pain over the recent outbreaks of violence in our country. It is up to us to continue living here in mutual dignity, peace and security. We call on every Technion student to speak out against violence, and on every citizen to work on behalf of good neighborly relations."

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A ‘Life’ in Pictures

As a set photographer, Morris Kagan has shot some of the most recognizable stars in the world. His post-production work has covered the gamut — movies like "Titanic" and "Lost World: Jurassic Park."

"A Life of Photography," now exhibiting at the Consulate General of Germany, presents the other side of Kagan’s visual career where, as a photojournalist and artist, Kagan draws on his own experience as the son of Holocaust survivors (who met in an Estonian labor camp) and a past president of Second Generation.

"Wherever I go, my camera goes," Kagan told The Journal.

Indeed, Kagan’s worldly camera was there in 1989, on what would have been Adolph Hitler’s 100th birthday, in the very Braunau, Austria apartment complex where the Nazi dictator was born. And on the 50th anniversary of Kristallnacht, that camera captured Helmut Kohl delivering a speech — the powerful image became a Jewish Journal cover.

"Clearly we grew up with signs of the Holocaust around our home," said Kagan, whose late father’s remembrance-themed artwork hangs in the houses of people such as Steven Spielberg. "But all of our lives we were told that the Germans were murderers, it’s in their nature. Something didn’t sit right with me. I needed to know that this next generation of Germans were not like their parents."

In fact, Kagan forged a friendship with Cornelius Schnauber, whose father was a Nazi, that has translated into nearly two decades of German-Jewish dialogues with other second-generation Jews and Germans.

If anything, Kagan hopes that the Holocaust-themed work in "A Life" will "convey the emotion, the faces of survivors and also those who may have been the other side, the perpetrators."

More than 30 images will comprise "A Life of Photography," which will feature Holocaust-related imagery, but also captures the 1992 L.A. riots and an L.A. gay/lesbian parade. Ultimately, the creative rewards for Kagan are "being able to observe something and reproduce it as faithfully as possible and as honestly as possible. I don’t want to romanticize things, yet I want to convey the emotion, the tone of the moment as much as possible and not misrepresent what we see."

Morris Kagan’s "A Life of Photography" has its opening reception on Thurs., Feb. 22, from 5 p.m.-7 p.m, at the Consulate General of Germany. The exhibit runs through April 5. For more information, call (323) 930-2703.

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Piscatorial Compassion

"Fish is meat," announces Danny, my 9-year-old vegetarian son.

"Fish is fish," responds Larry, my 50-something pescetarian husband.

Judaism backs up Larry, classifying fish as pareve, neither dairy nor meat, and telling us that fish first appeared almost 6,000 years ago, on the fifth day of creation, when God commanded, "Let the waters bring forth swarms of living creatures" (Genesis 1:20). God later elaborated, "anything in water, whether in the seas or in the streams, that has fins and scales — these you may eat" (Leviticus 11:9).

But the National Audubon Society supports Danny, categorizing fish as wildlife, and, along with other ecological and animal rights groups, raising questions that transcend the mere availability and codification of fish and directly challenge our ethical obligations as both fish-eaters and fish-catchers.

Indeed, with the yearly haul for all sea food estimated at 100 million metric tons, according to Britain’s Marine Conservation Society, and with 30 percent of the world’s fishes listed on the World Conservation Union’s "2000 Red List of Threatened Species," can we, in light of various Jewish moral precepts, continue to serve salmon at Shabbat dinner or take our kids fishing off the Santa Monica pier?

The Jewish mitzvah of bal tashit, do not destroy, can be traced back to Deuteronomy 20:19-20: "When in your war against a city you have to besiege it a long time in order to capture it, you must not destroy its trees, wielding the ax against them."

Thus, the rabbis have interpreted, if we are prohibited from destroying fruit-bearing trees even during the extreme conditions of wartime, imagine our responsibility to earth’s living plants and creatures under normal circumstances.

And so, we must pay heed when National Audubon Society, through its Living Oceans marine conservation program, alerts us that certain fish are abused, endangered or nearly depleted.

Wild salmon, for example, except in Alaska, are in serious trouble. Orange roughy, which became very popular in the 1980s, are fished out, as are Chilean sea bass, which may, according to some sources, face extinction by 2005. Additionally, the shark population is decreasing, especially in the Atlantic where they are overfished and depleted, and groupers, flounders, red snapper and swordfish are in serious trouble.

Plus, commercial fishing for many of these species results in the accidental catching and killing of other aquatic life as well as damage to the ocean habitats and ecosystems. For example, for every pound of shrimp caught, never mind that it’s halachically off-limits to us anyway, another four to ten pounds of sea life is killed or destroyed.

The National Audubon Society encourages us to select fish from a well-managed fishery. Among the kosher ones are tilapia, pacific cod, striped bass, pacific halibut, dolphinfish (aka mahi mahi or dorado) and wild Alaska salmon.

The Coalition on the Environment and Jewish Life (COEJL), founded in 1993 to bring a Jewish perspective and response to the environmental crisis, reiterates the need to safeguard the diversity of all life. According to Executive Director Mark K. Jacobs, "Based in the very beginning of Jewish tradition, in the story of Noah, we believe we have an obligation to preserve all the species we find on this planet."

And so my pescetarian husband has sworn off swordfish and orange roughy. He eats wild salmon only from Alaska.

But my vegetarian son, who has already sworn off eating fish, has a more difficult task in store for him; he must swear off fishing, which his older brother Gabe says, not entirely ironically, is the leading cause of death among fishes.

The Jewish concept of tzaar baalei hayyim (showing kindness to animals) puts fishing as a sport in the same category as hunting. In fact, when 18th century Rabbi Ezekiel Landau was questioned about hunting, he replied, "In the Torah the sport of hunting is imputed only to fierce characters like Nimrod and Esau, never to any of the patriarchs and their descendants… When the act of killing is prompted by that of sport, it is downright cruelty."

"But I throw the fish back," is the defensive response of anglers.

"But the fish are not even aware of their own existence," they protest. "They can’t feel pain."

Wrong. According to various scientific studies, including The Medway Report, sponsored by the United Kingdom’s Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, published in 1980 and updated in 1994, fish do suffer. They have a brain, a central nervous system and pain receptors throughout their bodies.

Thus, hooking a fish on a line and subsequently releasing it hardly qualifies as compassionate behavior. A fish’s mouth is covered with nerve endings, causing it to experience pain — as well as fear — as soon as it is snagged. Also, once out of water, a fish begins to suffocate, often causing its gills to collapse. And even returned to the water, a fish can die of trauma, infection or serve as a vulnerable target for a predator, including another "catch and release" fisherman.

The challenge for us Jews, based on what our tradition teaches us, lies not in reeling in the "big one" and mounting it conspicuously on our den wall. Nor does it lie in elevating animal rights over human rights. Rather, the challenge lies in finding a balance that respects and preserves all life.

As COEJL’s Jacobs says, "Fishing in and of itself is a good way for humankind to harvest the food that it needs. But it must be done in a way that is going to sustain the fish population."

For more information about the National Audubon Society’s Living Oceans program, please visitwww.audubon.org/campaign/lo

.

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Laws of Love

My daughter is beginning to get her hands into everything. She began crawling at 10 months, but didn’t quite understand the power of her freedom. Now at 13 months, she is like a pig in mud. She climbs up the tiled step around the bathtub, pushes herself up to her feet and holds on screaming in joy. She opens up the closet under the sink and looks for plastic bags or cleaning fluids. She searches the corners of our house to find paint chips or dust to eat. Everything she discovers excites her with possibilities, and fills me with trepidation.

In response we’ve developed a game. Each time she begins to reach for something dangerous, I call out her name and then shake my finger back and forth and say "No, no, no." She looks up at me with her saucer green-brown eyes, shakes her finger back at me, and then turns around and reaches for the danger once again. Our game repeats two to three times. Half the time she stops her action on her own, and the other half I need to physically intervene by moving her.

I’m amazed at how early the concept of rules, right and wrong, safe and unsafe, enters our vocabulary. And doubly amazed at how much my daughter seeks to learn, test and understand her limits. After each action, each crawl, each venture into new territory, she turns back and looks for confirmation or condemnation.

This week’s parashah is filled with rights and wrongs. Even its title, Mishpatim (meaning "laws"), hints to the abundance of precepts. Like the Israelites of yesterday, the Jews of today and the toddlers of tomorrow, we all seek structure in our life that provides us with a sense of security. Ironically, without some sense of structure we feel unloved. The Torah is keenly aware of this irony, yet some parents of today feel uncomfortable with the need for laws.

In her book "The Blessing of a Skinned Knee: Using Jewish Teachings to Raise Self-Reliant Children," Dr. Wendy Mogel writes about the rising phenomenon of parents who allow their children to call them by their first name, try to be their "best friends" or strive to run a democratic household in which everyone’s opinion has equal weight. The negative consequence of this is that our children do not learn the value of authority, a nasty word in post-60s America.

Mishpatim encourages an opposite message. We read that once the Israelites finished hearing the laws of God that Moses wrote down, sealed by a covenant of blood and then read aloud to the people, they answered "na’aseh v’nishnah" ("we will do and we will listen") (Exodus 24:7). Sforno, a 15th century Italian scholar, comments on the seemingly odd order of the Israelites promise: they agree to obey Gods laws before they agree to fully listen to, or understand them. Sforno asks how can one give up control and follow someone’s request to act without understanding their reasons or motivation? Sforno teaches that the Torah is trying to tell us that the Israelites agreed to "do" for the purpose of listening to and understanding God.

Essentially, the reason why the Israelites could agree to act before fully knowing God was because they respected the need for authority in their lives, trusted God and knew — though it may seem backwards — that by following this authority they would come closer to God, understand God more fully and love God.

As parents we constantly experience the connection between rules and love. When we set reasonable boundaries for our children — like homework first, then TV — as much as they might protest, we act responsibly. When we set down our own interpersonal "Ten Commandments" of the house, we are showing that we care about each other’s safety and emotional security. When I shake my hand at my daughter and say "No, no, no," she cries, but then lifts up her hands and reaches out for a hug and kiss — and in that one moment I experience law and love simultaneously.

When setting down rules, no longer do we have to say "Because I’m your Mother/Father," but rather "Because I love you" (and then of course make sure what we say is really spoken out of love).n


Michelle Missaghieh is rabbi of Temple Israel of Hollywood.

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Model Behavior

My cousin Barry, who is 27 and looks like a scale model of Michelangelo’s "David," is dating a 21-year-old Skechers model. Skechers is a line of shoes and clothing that I have never worn and generally think look ridiculous. You can’t swing a cat on Melrose Avenue without hitting someone in Skechers. If you’re wearing Skechers, I’m too old for you.

My cousin is going broke dating this girl, whose name is either Heidi or Heather. (I am under the mistaken impression that all natural blondes are named either Heidi or Heather.) By the looks of things, he will go broke next Thursday; around 3:30 p.m. he will officially be penniless. She requires a lot of attention in the form of champagne, loud restaurants, clothes and little gifts, and she has lots of incredible looking model girlfriends who seem to be hungry whenever he’s buying dinner. Barry is hanging on by his fingernails for the ride, but he’s wearing his best suit. For his part, he just wants to breathe her air a little while longer and I can’t blame him. I’d do the same thing. Hell, I’ve done the same thing. I dated a soap-opera actress back in New York. Actresses are just like models, only less so.

Models aren’t like other people. They’re not like you and me, Mac. They’re much, much more fabulous. But the quality that makes them so unusually photogenic can be a little odd-looking in person. They’re too tall. Their eyes are set too wide apart. Their lips are too big and pouty. In a word, they’re too too. This young lady has the unlikely, unbeatable combination of being both tall and waifish. She stands nearly 6 feet and weighs in at around 115 lbs., dripping wet, most of it hair. Frankly, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

Barry says he wouldn’t put up with all of her demanding attitude crap if she wasn’t so thoroughly wonderful to behold. She smokes, and he doesn’t care. He eats it up. He practically leaps at the opportunity to light her cigarettes. He’s walking on hot coals and doesn’t feel a thing. I understand. I stopped seeing a woman just because she was a vegan. (Vegans do not eat anything associated with animals. They claim to be healthy, but usually look as if they could benefit enormously by a trip to Lawry’s.) If the same woman had been a model, I would have given her the benefit of the doubt. I would have endured countless meals at Indian restaurants. I would have built a salad bar in my kitchen for her if she was a model. But she wasn’t and she had to go.

I am trying to be very supportive of my cousin in this endeavor. Maybe it wasn’t terribly romantic, but I told him that he’d better enjoy it while it lasts. He asked me how I knew this relationship wouldn’t work. I told him to wait for another three weeks and ask me again. I’ve seen her act. It’s the way of the world. It’s human nature. This gorgeous giant WASP waif is going to squeeze my Jewish frat-boy investment-banker cousin dry, then find herself a down-and-out guitar player with some interesting facial hair, a tattoo and a closet full of Skechers. The karmic order of the universe will once again be in harmony.

My other cousin, Doug, said his New Year’s resolution was to date a "10." A noble, eloquent and ambitious sentiment. In the end it was also unattainable. He didn’t have the stomach for it. While he was working on this project, he met a nice, slender, Jewish "8" from a good family and called it a day. I think he’s ahead on points.

Meanwhile, Barry got dumped, as I knew he would. I am there for him, trying to help him while he is drowning in a pool of his own tears now that she’s left him, broke and broken-hearted. I remind him that he had a good run, that he’s got to get back in the game, that he’s got to try to live and love again. "Losing a model is just like falling off a horse," I said. "You’ve got to pick yourself up and seduce another horse."

Fortunately, he took my advice when I told him to get an 8 x 10 photograph signed "To Barry, All My Love, Heather (or Heidi)" with a lipstick kiss, because when it’s all over he’ll want tangible evidence for posterity, something to hold onto in his newfound poverty, something he can flaunt in the face of his friends. I told him that if anyone ever asks him how much a head shot costs, he can honestly answer: "About five grand."

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Sweatshop Days

Rose Freedman has died.

Her death at 107 years of age has been widely noted, for Freedman was the last living survivor of the 1911 Triangle Shirtwaist Co. fire, a calamity that claimed 146 lives. Just months ago, she was featured in a PBS documentary, "The Living Century," which told not only of her experience 90 years ago, but also of the remarkable life she led thereafter. That life — as The New York Times put it — was both "colorful and courageous," right up until her last days in her home in Beverly Hills.

But it is her early days that I want to recall: the days we remember sentimentally as the time of the Lower East Side, which was also the time of the sweatshops and of their rapacious owners unconstrained by laws and regulations that would offer some protection for working-class people.

In 1902, the women of the Lower East Side organized a boycott of the kosher butchers of the area. After meat prices per pound had soared from 12 cents to 18 cents, women organized themselves as the Ladies Anti-Beef Trust Association. Their three-week-long boycott was a roaring success, imitated soon after in Cleveland and Detroit, and followed by frequent rent strikes and a 1909 strike that would have major implications for trade unionism in general: 20,000 shirtwaist makers, mostly women between the ages of 16 to 25, participated in what became the largest American strike by women for that time. The 1909 strike turned the International Ladies’ Garment Workers’ Union (ILGWU) into a force within the labor movement. Energized by the shirtwaist makers strike, 65,000 men, chiefly from the cloak and suit workers, left their jobs a year later and went on strike, demanding, among other things, a union shop.

The uptown Jews sought to intervene; they were horrified at the spectacle of Jewish workers striking against Jewish employers. Their efforts at mediation were finally successful when Boston lawyer Louis Brandeis negotiated what was called the "Protocol of Peace." Three weeks after the New York strike was settled, workers at Chicago’s Hart, Schaffner & Marx went out on strike. They were soon joined by another 35,000 Chicago workers in the garment trades striking against 50 different manufacturers. Out of that strike was born the Amalgamated Clothing Workers of America, which later became Amalgamated Clothing and Textile Workers Union (ACTWU).

Then came Triangle. Essie Bernstein, age 19; Anna Altman, age 16; Molly Gernstein, age 17; Vincenza Belatta, age 16; and 142 others were killed, almost all immigrants to these shores, with its huddled masses yearning to breathe free. Fewer than 20 were men, and more than half were 21 years old or younger. The doors on the eighth and ninth floors were locked, and once the fire began to spread there was no escape. Many women — girls, really — jumped from the windows to their deaths on the sidewalk below, "their flaming skirts billowing in the air as they fell."

Francis Perkins, who would become the first woman cabinet officer as secretary of labor, was an eyewitness to the fire, and Al Smith, then a member of the New York State legislature, whose district included a number of the dead, spent time with the grieving families at the morgue and in their homes. And while Isaac Harris and Max Blanck, the owners of Triangle, were found "not guilty" by the jury that tried them for manslaughter, the event did trigger modest reforms in regulating worker safety. (Harris and Blanck reopened for business three days after the fire, and offered the families of the deceased a week’s wages. Later, in a civil suit, they were ordered to pay $75 to each of the families of the victims.)

We remember Triangle these days as part of our nostalgic baggage. It is doubtful that many of us made the connection to Triangle when 25 workers died — again, mostly women — in a fire at the Imperial Food Products Poultry Plant in North Carolina due to a locked door. Surely, we have likely supposed, the deadly conditions that prevailed in 1911 have long since been corrected. Alas, the Imperial experience shows they have not. Nor is it correct to suppose that it is only in the South that such elementary violations of decency persist. These days, the center of America’s garment industry (that small fraction of it which has remained domestic) is in Los Angeles, and the sweatshop conditions that prevail there are not so different from those that prevailed in New York City in 1911. The countries of origin of these immigrant women, who work too many hours for too little in wages in unsafe and unsanitary conditions, have changed. The laws have also changed, but government’s laziness in enforcing the laws has remained, as has the indifference of too many employers.

All this was noticed forcefully four years back when UNITE (the trade union that was created out of a merger of the ILGWU and ACTWU), the Union of American Hebrew Congregations, and the American Jewish Congress co-sponsored a third seder in L.A.’s garment district. The featured speaker on that occasion was Freedman, who was a living link between then and now. Her death, in the fullness of time, transforms the link: once living, hence natural, it now becomes optional; dependent not on the raw memory of a remarkable survivor, but on the will and the empathy of those who are free to choose between remembering and forgetting, between compassion and indifference. It is not nostalgia that is at stake, but justice.

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The Muslim Zionist

Does Islam deserve its title as "one of the world’s great religions"? There are reasons these days to view it, especially here in Israel, as a source of terrorist bombings, murderous incitement against Jews, denials of Jewish connection to Jerusalem, and repression — especially of women — cruelty and crudity, fundamentalism and fanaticism. Nor do the American Muslim communities seem to demur very much.

So let me introduce you to Shaykh Prof. Abdul Hadi Palazzi, representative of an Islam that speaks in a loving voice and acknowledges its debt to Judaism — and who is, I suspect, on the verge of becoming a celebrity in the Jewish world.

Palazzi’s impeccable credentials as a Muslim cleric include a Ph.D. in Islamic Sciences by decree of the grand mufti of Saudi Arabia and years of study with Islamic teachers in Cairo and Europe. A leader of the Muslim community in Italy, he currently serves as secretary-general of the Italian Muslim Association in Rome.

And he’s a Zionist.

Palazzi accepts Jewish sovereignty over the Holy Land (he says the Koran supports it as the will of God and, theologically, a necessary prerequisite for the Final Judgment). He accepts — even prefers — Jewish sovereignty over Jerusalem, if the rights of other religions are protected. He quotes the Koran to support Judaism’s special connection to the Temple Mount. "The most authoritative Islamic sources affirm the Temples," he says, contradicting the current mufti of Jerusalem (the "pseudo-mufti," he calls him, dismissing him as a political appointee). He adds that Jerusalem is sacred to Muslims because of its prior holiness to Jews and its standing as home to the biblical prophets and kings David and Solomon, all of whom are sacred figures in Islam, too.

Moreover, the Koran "expressly recognizes that Jerusalem plays the same role for Jews that Mecca has for Muslims" — the center toward which prayer is directed. Just as no one wishes to deny Muslims sovereignty over Mecca, he goes on, there is no sound Islamic theological reason to deny the Jews the same right over Jerusalem. "In the present situation," he has said, directly contradicting Palestinian demands, "the only way to preserve religious freedoms for all three major religions is for Israel to be the single sovereign over the Old City." Nor, according to Palazzi, is there any basis in Islam for prohibiting Jews from praying on the Temple Mount, as is currently the case.

So if that’s true Islam, what are we reading in the daily papers? In Palazzi’s view, Islam has been hijacked by the Wahabi movement in Saudi Arabia, a radical reformist movement which denies the traditional — that is, moderate — understanding of the Koran and has taken control of Mecca and Medina.

That in itself might have had only minor ramifications, but oil made the followers of the movement almost unbelievably rich. Usually, Palazzi muses, regions blessed with higher civilizations become wealthy and then assume wider cultural dominance. But in this case, the contrary occurred: money made a primitive and violent culture powerful over a wide area. And now, "they are reshaping Islam in accordance with their political issues."

Palazzi says that Morocco, Tunisia, Jordan and other moderate Arab countries restrict the Wahabi sect. But in European countries, where the commitment to religious freedom allows it to thrive, it has successfully claimed to represent Islam. (In the U.S., Palazzi claims, the movement trains Muslim chaplains for the U.S. Army, and its members are invited to the White House.)

No network of Muslim scholars exists to oppose fundamentalism, and Saudi funding of ministries of religion in many countries keeps local imams from speaking out. Nonetheless, Palazzi believes that a new attitude is emerging among some Islamic thinkers. "Many of us are now ready to admit that hostility for Israel has been a great mistake, perhaps the worst mistake Muslims have made in the second half of this century."

The shaykh has no hesitation about promoting this stance. He serves in Israel as co-chair of the Root and Branch Association’s Islam-Israel Fellowship and Muslim chairman of the Association’s Jerusalem Embassy Initiative, which calls for "the nations of the world to move their embassies in Israel to Jerusalem, thereby recognizing Jerusalem as the eternal, exclusive and undivided capital of the Jewish People and the State of Israel, and as the spiritual center of mankind."

The son of an Italian mother and a Syrian father, Palazzi in person is a bearish, good-humored man with a trimmed beard and close-cropped hair and wearing, the night I met with him, a crew-neck sweater, cargo pants and no head covering. No robe, no turban. He is an extremely unassuming man.

Almost everyone to whom I mention Palazzi says something like, "Isn’t he afraid he’ll get killed?" That is itself a sign of how low Islam has allowed itself to sink in Western eyes. But Palazzi says he’s not afraid, because he is saying nothing that is not based in the Koran. Not living in the Arab world makes it easier for him to speak out, of course, but he names shaykhs even in the Palestinian Authority who he insists are largely in agreement with him.

His impact — aside from becoming the Muslim cleric best loved by Jews — remains to be seen. But at least he is helping to rescue the honor of Islam by representing it, not as a fanatical and murderous sect irrevocably bent on harm, but as a subtle and loving spiritual path, open to the world and glad to acknowledge its bonds of brotherhood with Judaism and Jews.

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Back From The Dead

I am determined to learn nothing from my cancer. Last month, I had lung surgery known as a thoracotomy. A cancerous tumor in my lower left lobe is gone. I’ll have chemotherapy, and pretty soon I’ll be bald. That’s all I care to know about this completely hideous, unprovoked and unpredictable disease until the CT scan says that the cancer on my chest wall is under control.

I don’t have a prayer of realizing this goal, do I? One way or another, I am destined to meander through the bramble of "meaning" we impose on any affliction. If I don’t do it for myself, you’ll do it for me. That’s the way we humans are built. We are "meaning makers," genetically inclined to connect the dots between disparate events. And Jews, I think, are the best at it.

A friend came over today, in the spirit of bikur cholim (visiting the sick), just to tell me he envied my grand moment, the make-or-break confrontation with reality. Forget it. I want my cancer to be just a disease blip that, given the best medical attention in the world, will soon be over and out. I don’t want it to be poetry, adventure, a journey. I don’t want my life to become, God forbid, heroic metaphor, sermon or midrash. I don’t want to look into cause and effect, stress and the mind-body connection. Fat chance.

It began seconds after surgery; my impulsive, chaotic pursuit of "understanding." The wheels of my gurney kerplunkt down the long hallway, and then a strong voice calling to me.

"Marlene! Refuah shleymah — speedy recovery!"

I opened my eyes to see my dear friend, Cantor Chayim Frenkel of Kehillat Israel, standing by my side. Chayim’s voice, both buoyant and grave, penetrated right through the anesthesia and warmed me. In my stupor, he clung to me, praying for my welfare. My heart lifted.

But why was Chayim there? My mind, frenzied from post-surgery, hunted and pecked for meaning.

The Frenkels, Chayim and his wife Marsi, had just had their second baby, Molly, in the same hospital. I was thrilled for the Frenkels, but now a vague, lint-like terror floated by. First, my mind replayed the sight and sound of Chayim waving at me. Then I went back in time and recalled the cantor as he had stood at the bimah officiating at my daughter’s Bat Mitzvah six years ago. Then a fast forward, to the Saturday before during Torah study. He had embraced me, offering prayers and blessings, before I’d gone into the hospital. No cantorial voice could be more comforting, but for that reason his was also more terrifying.

Putting these events together, my warped, drug-soaked brain worried: Was Chayim a messenger? Was he somehow an angel, ushering his new baby in, while I, with such a similar first name, was moving out? Was this the famous exchange of souls at the borderline of life? For hours I could not settle down.

That was my first post-surgical confrontation with ancient superstition, though certainly not my last. Worse yet, after the ancient bubbemeisers (grandmother’s tales), came the modern ones — created by those with learning.

The gist of these theories is that nothing happens by accident, that everything is as God plans it, including, I suppose, my cancer.

Rubbish. These literary devices can be heartwarming as one takes the plunge into marriage or child-rearing. But for random, life-threatening situations, they can be debilitating or worse. Must I fight my own tradition by thinking that I’m not only getting chemo but crossing a "narrow bridge;" that I am not only killing deadly cells, but being tested by God?

The idea that God tests us is deep within Jewish reading, and I’m not only talking about Job. The patriarch Abraham endured 10 tests to prove himself worthy of founding the Jewish people.

Jacob, of course, was tested spiritually and physically, finally winning a brutal battle (with himself or an angel) in which his name was changed to Israel. Joseph’s whole life was deemed a test, sold into slavery by his brothers, back and forth into prison. When he had his brothers are united he says, "You meant it for evil, but God meant it for good."

But it isn’t so. God does not really "mean" something evil for good. Nor is all the world and its difficulties to be summarized as "Egypt" — "mitzrayim" in Hebrew, meaning "narrow birth canal."

My cancer isn’t "my Egypt"? It’s my contact with the best of American medicine. I’m not praying for freedom, for reasons or for literary symbols, but for access to the best clinical drug trial I can find.

"There’s room for both you and Molly to live a full life," Chayim told me. "One day, we’ll dance at your daughter’s wedding!"

That’s why I’m committed to learning as little as possible from my cancer. Stay with me.

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Your Letters

Free Loan Success

What a wonderful story on the Jewish Free Loan Association (JFLA) (“In Community We Trust,” Feb. 16). Reading it reminds me of my own story. I didn’t come to L.A. from a foreign country, but Boston. I arrived in 1998 with $400 in my pocket and no job. Fortunately, Ethel Taft (from Jewish Vocational Service) introduced me to JFLA’s now long-serving Executive Director Mark Meltzer, who immediately arranged for a loan to help me plant roots in Los Angeles.

When I was starting my business, Meltzer steered me toward the Baran Small Business Loan Fund, which provided critical support to my fledgling business. Two years later, I have a successful business, own a house and a car, and am forever grateful to the role the JFLA has played in my life and the lives of thousands across our community. It is an organization that epitomizes chesed.

David Novak, Los Angeles


Presidential Pardons

My good friend and colleague Dov Fischer wrote an article expressing his outrage at President Clinton’s pardoning of the four Skverer Chassidim (“The Price of Freedom,” Feb. 2). As Fischer and I are religious Jewish attorneys who wear our yarmulkes in our law practice, we are de facto representatives of Orthodoxy, and when things go sour in the community, we usually have to face our critics.

However, Fischer crossed several major lines when he equated religious Jews who choose not to allow aspects of prevalent American culture to infiltrate our homes with scheming Shylocks plotting to rip off the government. I used to think that the anti-Orthodox animus came from outside the observant community. Unfortunately, now it seems to be coming from within.

A gifted, talented, eloquent and sincere writer who champions truth and the straight-and-narrow path, who rallies against falsehood and injustice, must act consistent with that mandate by writing articles within the parameters of halacha, and not exacerbate and already painful chillul Hashem with false and misleading rhetoric about religious Jewry.

Baruch C. Cohen, Los Angeles


Congratulations Rabbi Dov Fischer. You hit the nail on the head. The amazing thing to me is that so many people are surprised by Clinton’s actions with these horrendous, obviously political pardons. Those of us — and we are few in the Jewish community — who never voted for slick Willie are not surprised at all. Same old, same old.

Suzanne Bermant, Tarzana


Faith-Based Initiative

The National Council of Jewish Women/Los Angeles agrees with United Jewish Communities (UJC), ACLU and ADL in their opposition to government funding of faith-based social-service agencies (“The Faith-Based Blitz,” Feb. 2). Such funding will inevitably lead to a breach of spirit and intent of the First Amendment’s dictate that church and state be separate.

Although faith-based institutions often do much-needed community service, as do nonprofit organizations such as NCJW/LA, the introduction of government funding will create a multitude of problems: How will agencies be selected? Isn’t there a distinct potential for discrimination in hiring and service? What accounting procedures will these government funds be subject to lest there be co-mingling of funds for religious purposes?

Even some of the faith-based agencies express concern about these added pressures.

In the words of NCJW National President Jan Schneiderman, “Religious beliefs play no public role in governance and explicitly religious programs are inappropriate vehicles for public policy and service delivery.”

Debra Gendel, Co-President, NCJW/LA

Jill Levin, Co-President, NCJW/LA


Purim in Cuba

Having recently returned from a visit to Cuba with a humanitarian organization, I read with interest the travel section advertisement for a Purim in Cuba holiday. Allow me to give some advice when packing your 44 lbs. of luggage.

Pack medication. Fill those corners of your suitcase with antibiotics, multivitamins, surgery gloves, antiseptic wipes, insulin and aspirin. Pediatric hospitals are filled with children who are not receiving appropriate care for lack of proper medications.

Pack school supplies. Students at classes in Havana’s Bet Shalom Synagogue have few pens and pencils, tape, paper and scissors.

Food is scarce and rationing is severe. Pack clothing that will not return with you. And if you’ve got just a bit more room, pack a toy. A member of the synagogue introduced us to his disabled daughter and informed us that even as a member of the medical profession, he was unable to obtain the appropriate medications for his child. Draconian U.S. legislation has put the fingerprints of U.S. citizens on every death certificate for a child who died because the immoral economic embargo of Cuba.Pack compassion.

Jo-Ann Winnik, Encino


11th Commandment

I enjoyed reading the article by Lynne Z. Gold-Bikin (“Advice From The Trenches,” Feb. 9). They were all very good commandments, many of which I already knew or believed in. For what it’s worth, allow me to add one more commandment to your list:

11. Cherish the time you have together. While you may feel that the two of you will grow old together, you really have no idea how long it will last.

I lost my wife Rebecca to brain cancer after being married to her for only six short but loving years. Even people who do have happy marriages should not take their partner for granted and assume they will always be there.

Abrey Myers, West Hills


Correction

In the Feb. 2 Circuit, judges Howard Matz and Clifford Klein were misidentified. We regret the error.

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