How Israel Shaped Ruth Mayer And Her Hope For Her Homeland’s Future
Mayer got married in 1958 to her late husband, Arye, who immigrated to Israel at eight years old from Romania. Pogroms forced Arye's family out of their home.Am I a Jew? Australian? Both? - opinion
"They left their home with only two suitcases, and they were forced to leave on the side roads, and they were walking for days and days without food or water," Mayer said. "And then the Red Cross was taking orphan kids away from the war zone. So his parents declared that they were not their kids; they found them. So the kids went with the Red Cross."
"They never knew if they would ever see their parents again."
The Red Cross put Arye and his brother on a boat to the British Mandate for Palestine. But they were turned away. (In 1939, Britain began limiting immigration to Palestine following the 1936-39 Palestine Revolt against the British Mandate for the increase of Jewish immigration as Hitler rose to power.)
According to Mayer, Arye's ship went to Italy, where he and his brother boarded another boat that went back to Palestine, and this time, they were allowed to enter the region. They were adopted by a man from a Kibbutz (a communal settlement in Israel, typically a farm) near Jerusalem.
Arye and his brother served Israel as soldiers, volunteering for the Haganah, the Zionist paramilitary organization of the Jewish population in Mandatory Palestine between 1920 to 1948. (The Haganah turned into the Israeli Defense Forces or IDF.)
"The first war that he served in, he was 15-years-old, so we are talking 1945 (before Israel's independence). There was an unorganized war, and it was a brutal battle," Mayer said. "He and his brother lied about their age."
"But he served in 73 in the Yom Kippur war and the Sinai war."
Eventually, Mayer, Arye, and their three daughters relocated to the United States after their youngest, who has a disability, was born. And they've remained here since. However, Mayer's brother and family still reside in Israel, in Tel Aviv, close to where missiles are often fired. So when an escalation between Israel and Hamas occurs, like the latest in May, she fears for her family's safety.
Mayer says she loves Israel because it saved her family and many other Jewish families. But she's tired of the bloodshed and fighting between Israelis and Palestinians.
"The Jewish and Israeli people, they love Israel, and they cherish Israel. I know how I feel. I miss it terribly. I feel like I know what it means to be homesick," she said.
"I do hope for peace between Israelis and Palestinians."
There is a gap between the role of the rabbi in Israel and the Diaspora. On the whole, the Israeli rabbi is more of a Talmudist and teacher and less of a mentor and minister. The Diaspora rabbi tends to be a professional, concentrating more on people skills, ministering to a congregation and representing Judaism to the host society.The extinction of Jewish heritage in northern Cyprus
I was an incarnation of the second concept. Forty-five years in Diaspora pulpits molded me into an ecclesiastic and ambassador. Commencing my career in the United Synagogue in London, I spent 32 years in Sydney as chief minister of the Great Synagogue. Early on, I had a meeting with the synagogue’s Board concerning the role of the rabbi. I said I seemed to have two full-time jobs – congregational minister and community ambassador. I felt I was competent to do either and asked the board what they preferred. Rather pragmatically, they said: “Both!”
So “both” it remained. I know I wasn’t the perfect rabbi: nobody was or could be. But somehow the combination of roles evolved over the years by previous rabbis (not always in consultation with the lay leaders) seemed to work, and that’s the way things were and remain. Occasionally I asked myself a philosophical question: when I got involved in matters of national debate was it as a Jew or an Australian? Once again the pragmatic answer was “both!”
The question actually arose constantly. Interviewed on TV in the 1990s (billed as “one of twenty leading Australians”) about the future of the British monarchy in Australia, did I speak as a Jew or an Australian? When I spoke at the national Sea of Hands event at Bondi Beach to advocate reconciliation with (and an apology to) the Aboriginals, was I there as a Jew or an Australian? When I helped the Uniting Church to get its first female military chaplain, was my involvement as a Jew or an Australian? At times I stood up for the Muslim, Chinese and Roman Catholic communities; I addressed conferences of politicians, judges, journalists, nurses, naval chaplains, teachers and child care workers. What was I – a Jew? an Australian? I addressed large audiences on national occasions like Anzac Day and Australia Day – as a Jew? as an Australian? I can’t be sure, but I think the answer was “both!”
Historically, large Jewish population groups lived across coastal towns in Cyprus such as ancient Salamis in the city of Famagusta, which is today under Turkish occupation. Sadly, the invasion campaign has brought widespread destruction to all non-Muslim Cypriot historic sites.
To this day, the occupying forces continue to plunder and destroy the Cypriot cultural heritage, including the Jewish heritage of the occupied area. The Jewish cemetery there, for instance, has been destroyed. According to the 2012 report "The Loss of A Civilization: Destruction of cultural heritage in occupied Cyprus,"
“The historic Margo Jewish Cemetery, a national monument for the Jewish people, southeast of Nicosia, has been desecrated and destroyed in the same way as Christian cemeteries in the area occupied by Turkish troops have been desecrated and destroyed.
“The Margo Jewish Cemetery is home to the graves of Jews of the diaspora of 1885 and of Jewish refugees who came to Cyprus after the Second World War.
“The cemetery is located in a strictly controlled military area and is guarded by an armed Turkish soldier. Jewish organisations and other groups have persistently petitioned for free access to the cemetery to conduct religious ceremonies, but these requests have not been granted by the occupying power and its puppet regime.”
“We have visited the cemetery several times,” Philippou confirms. “But we haven't been able to hold any religious ceremonies, just a quick visit under supervision. We would like to have it restored, but no permission was given thus far.”
See a video of the destroyed Jewish cemetery in the Turkish-occupied part of Nicosia here.
Cypriot-Dutch author, cultural campaigner and activist Tasoula Hadjitofi became a refugee at age 15 when Turkish troops invaded Famagusta, the city of her birth, in 1974. For several decades, she has collected artefacts and other symbols of cultural heritage that has been looted and stolen to bring them back home to Cyprus. Referring to the liberation of prisoners from Nazi concentration camps in 1945, Hadjitofi said:
"Cypriots fought alongside the allies as British troops during the liberation of the Jews and other prisoners, for Cyprus was then a British colony. There are no poppies for those heroes on Holocaust Memorial Day in the United Kingdom or in Cyprus and little is known anywhere about them. Most of these forgotten heroes died quietly and took with them so many untold stories. Perhaps a handful are still around? Their stories must be told and their courage must be honored."
"The historical ties are strong between Israel and Cyprus," added Hadjitofi. "I do hope that our Jewish brothers and sisters worldwide are watching attentively the Islamisation of northern Cyprus by Turkey, as well as the destruction of the Christian and Jewish sites in the occupied area. And for the sake of our shared heritage, historical and current struggles for freedom, as well as fundamental principles, they must do their best to stop them."