Part Two - Ruth Behar
Transcription
Part Two - Ruth Behar
Memoir 1 (continued) The University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, Michigan, USA Cuba’s Jews: People of a Solitary Star Continued from page 4 Watching throughout the 1990s as Jews in Cuba found their way to a Jewish identity amid the gaze of all the outsiders who had a stake in their Jewish awakening, I decided to write a book about this emerging community that mixed stories and photographs. In 2001 I met the photographer Humberto Mayol in Havana after seeing an impressive collection of his black and white photographs focusing on the Afrocuban religions of Palo Monte and Santería. I asked him if he’d be interested in photographing another religious and ethnic community—the Jews in Cuba. He wasn’t Jewish and knew nothing about Jews, but he agreed right away. Over the next five years we traveled all over Cuba searching for Jews, he with his camera, and I with my pen, working together to reveal the conjuncture of Jewishness and Cubanness, visually and textually. The Jewish revival that was in full force by the late 1990s soon made it clear to the world that it would be the responsibility of the four percent of Jews who stayed in Cuba to guard the Jewish legacy and keep it from disappearing. It is the Jews on the island today who learn to chant from the Torahs brought 80 years ago from Poland and Turkey. Alberto Behar teaching Torah to young bar and bat mitzvah students It is they who continue to bury their dead in the Jewish cemeteries of the island, surrounded by palm trees. Upon them has fallen the burden of preserving the scattered bits and pieces of Jewish life, the archaeological relics that have survived. They are the keepers of the yellowing satin kippah worn at a Jewish wedding in 1959, as the Revolution began. Alberto Behar with 1959 kippah Unlike the pre-revolutionary Jewish community of Cuba, which had few converts to Judaism, the post-revolutionary Jewish community is almost exclusively made up of converts. With support from the Joint Distribution Committee in New York, Jewish teachers from Argentina are sent to provide Jewish education, and rabbis periodically visit to perform circumcisions, weddings, and conversions. To become a Jew you need documents, and two brothers in Camaguey, w h o s e p a t e rnal grandfather is Jewish and was circumcised at the age of 67, hold up proof of their J e w i s h n e s s — Boys in Camaguey with conversion documents their conversion papers. On my first visits to Cuba in the early 1990s, I’d spend the Sabbath in the Patronato, the once elegant but crumbling Havana synagogue where I’d gone as a child. A handful of other congregants were there. They didn’t know Hebrew and couldn’t follow the religious service. Pigeons flew in and out through the torn roof. By 2002, Hollywood director Steven Spielberg had visited the Jews of Cuba. While in Havana for a film festival, he’d asked to be taken to the Jewish cemetery and to the Patronato, which was by then newly renovated with support from the Cuban Jewish community in Miami and American Jewish organizations, complete with air conditioning, a computer room, a video screening room, and a new roof. Spielberg knelt and shook hands with little Moishe, or Moisés—a five-year-old who knows by heart the blessings for the washing of the hands and the partaking of bread and wine. Spielberg was so moved that before leaving he wrote the Jews of Cuba a note—“When I see how much cultural restoration has been performed by you and others, it reminds me again about why I am so proud to be a Jew.” He added the words “Thank you” before signing his name, as if to express his gratitude to the Jews in Cuba for simply existing. From pigeons in the synagogue to Spielberg in the synagogue—that defines the dramatic arc of transformations I have witnessed as a traveler to Jewish Cuba—a Jewish Cuba I never forget might have been mine had my own Jewish Cuban family stayed on the island. The idea that Jewish life has been possible at all under Fidel Castro contributes to the exotic appeal of Cuba’s Jews, who maintain their identity in a web of contradictions and paradoxes. Since Israel votes to support the U.S. embargo, Cuba is officially pro-Palestinian and doesn’t have diplomatic relations with Israel. Yet Israel, together with Spain, is a major investor in the Cuban economy. Jews in Cuba suffer no discrimination. In fact, the Cuban government goes out of its way to accommodate Jewish needs, neither interfering with the functioning of the kosher butcher shop in Havana nor the distribution of matzah; neither interfering with activities in the synagogues nor the numerous departures of community members to Israel. Although the Cuban press frequently expresses anti-Zionist views, there is wide admiration and respect for the Jewish people. Schindler’s List was shown on Cuban television and was the subject of much sympathetic discussion. It has not escaped the notice of the Cuban government that American Jews have fueled the revitalization of the Jewish community and that they have also been among the most active grassroots diplomats, engaging with Cubans through cultural exchanges Globalization and the New Humanities, November 14-5 currents, they will explore how the disciplines of the humanities in China are rearranging themselves in light of China’s rapid globalization and social change. In what ways are questions of identity (for China, or the Chinese humanities) taking precedence in their work? To what extent have the humanities achieved public voices in the new China? What kind of public address to the state on matters of human rights, equity under capitalism, state preservation and interpretation of culture, and the future of universities are the humanities making? How do they compare to the exciting and often critical work done in the Chinese arts today? What links are being restored or reinvented between Chinese scholars working in China and the astonishing Chinese diaspora? The Institute’s Norman Freehling Professor for next year—Haiping Yan—is a chief organizer of the conference who lives a double life between a Professorship in Theater at UCLA and a Distinguished Professorship in Shanghai where she is associated with the building of humanities programs and projects in Chinese universities. The Institute is fortunate to be bringing back Professor Yan to campus, who was here for two years in what was then the Center for Global Arts at the International Institute. Yan is an important Chinese playwright who has more recently turned to scholarly writing on Chinese and volunteer medical assistance programs. Fidel Castro, some say, has a soft spot for the Jews, possibly for personal reasons. Might Castro be a hidden Jew? His daughter, Alina Fernández Revuelta, claims that one of Castro’s grandfathers was a Jew from Istanbul. But all that Castro has ever told reporters is that his Jewish identity harks back to the days of the Inquisition, when Spanish Jews took on names like Castro and became conversos (Jewish converts to Catholicism) to escape being burned at the stake. Irrespective of Castro’s family tree, it is well known that Cubans as a whole tend to think of themselves as the “Jews of the Caribbean.” On the island, Cubans see Cuba and Israel as similarly fierce and independent nations, small in size but huge in ambitions, surrounded by historical enemies who seek to topple their efforts to build paradise on earth. Cuban exiles and immigrants, in contrast, see themselves as diasporic in the classic Jewish sense, as, in the words of poet Rafael Campo: people, of a solitary star who wander, searching for a home someplace. Che in the synagogue Such shared Jewish and Cuban sensibilities make the actual Jews still living in Cuba a potent symbol of what it means to search for a home in the world today. Jews in Cuba breathe the revolutionary air of Che Guevara. They are shockingly poor in material things, lacking such accoutrements of modern life as credit cards, frequent flyer numbers, laptops, and cell phones, but they are rich in spirituality, and rich in engagement with some of the last utopian ideals left in the world. Their aura is such that hundreds upon hundreds of people continue to travel to Cuba to show their support and attempt to commune with them. Ruth Behar is Professor of Anthropology at the University of Michigan. This essay is adapted from her new book, An Island Called Home: Returning to Jewish Cuba, appearing this fall with Rutgers University Press. All photographs in this article are by Havana-based, prize-winning photographer Humberto Mayol, who traveled with Ruth Behar on her journey through Cuba. His work has been widely exhibited in the U.S., Europe, and Latin America. The solitary star has more than one meaning for Cuba’s Jews. It refers to the Jewish star, the star on the Cuban flag, and the red star of the revolutionary on Che’s beret. continued from page 8 and global drama from feminist and other angles. The workshop is the continuation of one organized by Professor Yan in Shanghai (June 2005) which brought U.S. scholars to China (including the Director of the Institute for the Humanities) to speak to the state of the humanities in the U.S. today. It is part of the institute’s larger interest in limning—and learning from—the institutional and creative states of the humanities in various parts of the globe. Daniel Herwitz is Director of the U-M Institute for the Humanities, and Mary Croushore Professor of Humanities. He holds positions in philosophy, history of art, art and design, and screen arts and cultures, and currently serves as CoDirector of U-M’s Human Rights Initiative. Haiping Yan, Norman Freehling Professor, Institute for the Humanities. XIAOCHUN ZHANG/ NEW CITIZENS WEEKLY