When visitors leave, they often comment on the incredible strength of our community and how we band together to deal with adversity. They always comment on how astonishing it is that we have created a communal infrastructure that supports us when all else may be crumbling.
Many also speak of the strength of our Jewishness and our Jewish way of life.
I have been told on numerous occasions how the fact that those of us who are more secular than religious are still allowed to call ourselves Orthodox has cemented the community.
Do we truly recognise all of this in ourselves? Do we stop for a minute and look at what we have here, pat ourselves on the back, and let it sink in?
Or do we continue to find a reason to castigate ourselves, our neighbours, or our country?
Last week, Biko Arran wrote in the SA Jewish Report about the kindness of South Africans and how witnessing the way motorists treat each other at traffic lights is testimony to this. It’s so true.
People are polite and helpful, and rarely make a nuisance of themselves in the traffic during loadshedding. This even happens when it’s so dark, it’s difficult to detect a traffic light up ahead.
I don’t know about you, but there’s also evidence of this in our neighbourhoods. I can’t speak for everyone, but I’m on an area WhatsApp group, and when someone has water, electricity, or other fundamental but not life-threatening crises, the number of folk (strangers really) who offer help is heartwarming. True kindness!
Not long ago, I had a puncture in a very mixed suburb, and the number of people who stopped to offer help was astonishing. People came out of their homes nearby with tools to help me.
We are kind people!
As a community, we’re organised and ready to help each other with almost anything.
Interviewing the delightful Liat Amar Arran as she and her family pack to head back to Israel (see page 7), it’s amazing to see us through her eyes.
She was adamant that she wasn’t coming to this scary, crime-ridden place until she got here, and it didn’t take us too long to wheedle our way into her heart.
I love that she speaks about how we manage to be a real example of how to live a Jewish lifestyle. In this, she refers to how some of us perhaps eat out in non-kosher restaurants but still go to shul every week. Some drive to shul, but still go. Some may not go to shul, but they are at every communal function and their children are committed to Bnei Akiva or Habonim.
Basically, she was saying that the leeway we are given to live a Jewish life makes it easier and more meaningful to be a part of this varied community. Also, she’s impressed at how our rabbis don’t condemn us for not being Shomrei Shabbos, fully kosher, and so it goes on.
I understand that for some in our community, this might be unacceptable, but I do appreciate that this is what makes us such a strong and bonded community and not different groups of Jews who can never accept or agree with each other.
Going back to Amar Arran, I find it amazing how she and her family have managed in little more than four years – two of which were mostly in lockdown – to have become such an intrinsic part of our community.
If you have never met her, she literally exudes warmth and kindness. I had an experience where she and I were engaging with a women’s organisation that included Jewish and Muslim women. When she introduced herself as Israeli and working for the Israel Centre here, I could literally feel the Muslim women bristle with discomfort. I wondered what would happen next, but by the time she had finished introducing herself, all the women had warmed to her. They got that she’s all about building bridges and, no matter where she’s from, she’s someone you want on your side.
While she has been here, she has steered clear of politics, which in her role was beneficial. However, it struck me that she felt that South African Jews who don’t necessarily agree with something that happens in Israel should speak out. Many of us are cautious to speak about Israeli politics in a public forum because if we’re pro-Israel, it gives our haters ammunition against us because this standpoint is unpopular in certain circles. But those who are critical about something in Israel are just as cautious about saying anything in Jewish circles because they will be shushed for being anti-Israel and feeding the haters.
Criticising a political decision or an action of a country you love doesn’t make you anti-Israel, it makes it clear that you care enough to speak out about it.
Though we love Israel, there’s no rule that says we must put it on a pedestal. It’s a country we love that has its own issues, as do we.
So, it’s okay to support Netanyahu, and it’s also okay not to. Am I going to be struck down now? I hope not. I have Amar Arran and Israeli President Isaac Herzog’s permission to be vocal about my opinion. So do you.
I have to say though, it’s with sadness that we say farewell to her. Her honesty, integrity, and wisdom has served us, as has her friendship and openness to breaking barriers and building bridges. I have no doubt that she and her husband will go on to do great things back in Israel.
Saying goodbye is never easy, but always so much better when you part as friends.
But for those of us left behind, I agree that we should be doing what we can to enhance and build our community and our country. We have something so special in our community – let’s spread the magic!
Shabbat Shalom!
Peta Krost
Editor
