Jephte's Daughter (43 page)

This opinion, stated openly on street corners and printed in little back-room presses on large posters that were pasted up zealously, defacing walls and mailboxes all over town, infuriated the Ha-Levi Hassidim, and brought them to blows with their detractors. They in turn printed up posters that proved that it was Isaac Harshen who was to blame—an interloper who had no right to lead the Ha-Levis now that there was a true heir. The posters brought down as proof his disgraceful treatment of Batsheva as well as the decisions he had made that had cost several people their lives. Other dark doings—heatings of young yeshivah boys, bus-stop burnings—were also alluded to. Things reached such a pitch that the police, who were usually avoided by all groups as part of the collective secular, Zionist enemy, were actually called upon to restore order by both groups after their leaders received death threats and one actually had a grenade thrown at him, which, miraculously, did not explode.

Batsheva knew nothing of all this. David put Akiva on his shoulders and began cutting a path for her through the crowd, which quieted ominously as they passed. Then one by one the jeers and the blessings began pouring forth:

“God Bless you!”

“Filthy goy!”

“May God watch over you!”

And then as they reached the safe portals of the Ministry of Religion, someone shouted out: “Dirty whore, adulteress!”

David turned, his face flashing with fury, held back only by Batsheva’s soft, restraining whisper. But soon he realized that whoever had uttered those words was now screaming in pain as a flock of Hassidim, like avenging angels, descended upon him.

The same small, dark room she had feared the day before seemed like a sanctuary to Batsheva now as she entered it with David and Akiva and her mother. Gershon and Gita were already there. Gita took Batsheva in her arms in a warm, wordless embrace full of comfort and support. They all rose as the judges walked in. But Isaac was not there. The judges glanced at each other and at the clock, concerned, then busied themselves with looking over written evidence. Batsheva, thinking of the angry crowd, wondered if he would be able to get through. After almost fifteen minutes the door burst open and Isaac walked in.

The change in him was dramatic and almost pitiful. The mask of calm humility that he had worn much of the day before was gone. Even the arrogance and anger of his real face was no longer visible. Instead, he looked white and shaken, the way a bully looks who has at long last encountered someone meaner and stronger than himself. The walk through the angry crowd had destroyed any illusion he still harbored of coming out of this trial untouched, even enhanced among his Hassidim. How quickly they had turned upon him! He was in a state of shock.

“We shall not waste any more time,” Rabbi Magnes said curtly. He waved to Reb Gershon. “Do you know David Hope?”

“Yes,
kavod harav
,” Gershon answered. “I was his teacher when he was in the novitiate program. He was very interested in learning about our religion and I set him up a course of independent study in Jewish law and history. Then, about two months later he came to my house very moved and excited and said he believed his mother was a Jew, which, as we all know according to Jewish law, makes him a Jew. Naturally, I found it hard to believe, and so I checked it out with the highest authorities both here and in Amsterdam and London. They confirmed that his mother was a Jew from a very distinguished family. And then I called his father.” Gershon stopped, looking at David. “He told me that he had always known that your mother was a Jew. But she had made him swear on her deathbed that he would never tell you and that he would raise you as a pure Christian. She had been there, in Germany, during the Holocaust, in the middle of all that hatred. She was terrified. She thought she was protecting you. But when I told your father you already knew, he confirmed it.” Reb Gershon turned back to the judges. “David told me he wanted to return to Judaism and asked me to teach him.”

“And what have you taught him?” Rabbi Getz asked suspiciously.

“I began teaching him the Shulchan Aruch and then we went on to the Talmud, Mesecas Gittin.”

A gleam of humor flashed in Rabbi Magnes’s eyes. “Humph.
The Tractate on Divorce
. Appropriate. And did you find him an able student?”

“Not only able,
kavod harav
, but absolutely a genius of rare intelligence, more than anyone else I have ever met. As it says in the
Ethics of the Fathers
: He is like a sponge that loses not a drop. Most important, his learning is of the highest form. He learns in order to do. For all the time I have known him, he has been sincere and exacting in keeping all the Commandments.”

“But can this not be just a show?” Rabbi Millstein pointed out. “First he wears a cross and now he is a Talmudical scholar. It seems extremely convenient to me.” He shook his head cynically.

Rabbi Magnes turned to his colleague and said very softly, so that no one not sitting next to him could hear. “And so you question his sincerity? And how is this relevant to the case before us?”

“
Kavod harav
. If this man is to be a father to Akiva Ha-Levi Harshen, must we not examine his qualifications carefully? Is not his sincerity in returning to his religion an issue in those qualifications?” Rabbi Millstein whispered back.

“I see. And what of the sincerity of Isaac Harshen, the father? Do you not question that?”

“Well, I…” Rabbi Millstein began, then stopped, his surprise turning him momentarily speechless.

“But,
kavod harav
, we all saw Isaac Harshen grow up. We know his parents and his grandparents. We know his reputation as a scholar and a
yera shamayim
, a God-fearing Jew.” Rabbi Getz broke in with a furious whisper of indignation.

“Ah, so you know all about Isaac Harshen. I see. So you were not surprised to learn that he brought a false accusation against his virgin bride, a crime mentioned specifically in the Torah? You were not surprised to learn that he beat her when she was with child and took all of her money from her—things he admits?” Rabbi Magnes said very quietly, with extreme irritation.

Everyone watched the active, inaudible debate, surprised at the thoughtful silence and embarrassment that descended upon the two rabbis as they thoughtfully stroked their beards, considering.

“I suggest we must talk to the child and to David Hope privately,” Rabbi Magnes said quietly. “Do you agree?” The two men nodded and got up, walking with Rabbi Magnes into the room adjoining the courtroom.

“Please send Akiva in. Alone.”

Batsheva sat tensely, her ears straining. She heard some laughter and then soft voices. About fifteen minutes later, Akiva walked out and ran to David, hugging him.

“David Hope.” David kissed Akiva and released himself from the child’s tight embrace. He walked slowly toward the back room, as one walks in a dream to meet one’s fate. His eyes met Batsheva’s and a moment of fear and longing and love passed between them that warmed his heart and terrified him. He felt a pat on his arm.

“Don’t be afraid, David.” Gershon nodded encouragingly and winked. “They won’t eat you.”

The minutes passed, and the people seated in the courtroom began to fidget. A half hour passed, and they began to get up from their seats to stretch their legs. When an hour had gone by, the tension in the room seemed to crackle with the dangerous power of an electric cable torn loose by a storm. Finally, an hour and a half after he had gone in, David opened the door and came into the courtroom. His face was pale and drawn, Batsheva noted with panic, but when his eyes met hers they shone with a radiant light. Twenty minutes later, the
dayanim
filed slowly back into the courtroom.

Rabbi Magnes looked at Rabbi Millstein and Rabbi Getz. “My distinguished colleagues, may I speak also in your names?” The two men nodded with dignity, in complete agreement. “According to
Halacha
, a woman is allowed to demand a divorce on two grounds: a physical defect in her husband, or his conduct toward her. In this case it is the husband’s conduct—conduct that is so unworthy that she cannot any longer be expected to continue living with him as his wife. As it is written in the Talmud,
Ketubot
61: ‘A wife is given in order that she should live and not suffer in pain.’ The grounds established here are based on Isaac Harshen’s continued breach of his duties as laid down for conjugal life. As it is written in
Yad, Ishut
, 15:19 based on
Yevamot
62b: ‘Let a man honor his wife more than he honors himself, love her as he loves himself, and if he has assets, seek to add to her benefits, and not unduly impose fear on her, and speak to her gently and not be given to melancholy or anger.’ Also, as it is written: ‘If a husband habitually assaults and insults her, or is the cause of unceasing quarrels so that she has no choice but to leave the common household, she is granted a divorce.’ Because you have treated your wife this way, it was her right to leave you and you must give her a
get
so that she is permitted to marry any man she chooses.”

“Even this man, her lover!” Mrs Harshen got to her feet and pointed in hysteria at David.

“Silence! How dare you address the court! But since an accusation has been made, we will deal with it. In order to prove adultery, there must be two witnesses who swear such is the case. Do you have such witnesses?” Mrs Harshen collapsed into her seat. “Moreover, since Isaac is a scholar, he knows that if he had suspected his wife of committing adultery he would have been obligated to divorce her immediately, but instead he asked for
shalom bais
, which means he does not even accuse her of such a terrible thing.” Isaac slumped in his chair, defeated. “As for the custody of the child—”

Batsheva moved to the edge of her seat and held her mother’s hand tightly.

“It is the usual practice of the court to grant the custody of a small child to his mother. Here, of course, there have been mitigating circumstances.” He paused uncomfortably and glanced at his colleagues. “Although we have examined David Hope and have found him to be a sincere and learned
baal teshuva
, a penitent,” Rabbi Magnes leaned forward, “actually, we were amazed by the depth and clarity of his intelligence and learning and do not doubt his sincerity. However…” Batsheva’s heart seemed to stop. “However,” Rabbi Magnes went on with quiet deliberation, “the court cannot ignore the fact that Batsheva Harshen, in an act of unfathomable recklessness, kidnapped her son and almost took his life.” Batsheva saw Isaac straighten his back and look at her with a little smile.

This was the moment of her darkest fear, the moment she knew had had to come. It was the moment of reckoning, the meting out of justice. God was compassionate and merciful, but He was also a God of strict justice. That moment, when she had held Akiva’s life in her hands and had willfully, selfishly, thought to extinguish it because of her own unhappiness, her own inability to bear seeing him be beaten down into his father’s dark image—that moment must be paid for. She bent her neck lower with a calm hopelessness, the way a queen might facing the guillotine, wanting it to be over quickly, hoping to keep some shred of dignity. Isaac must not see her cry, she had made that promise so many years ago. How, she thought with brief horror, how will I live knowing my son is once again in Isaac Harshen’s hands, under his control? The time for running away was past. She had taken her only escape hatch and with her own hands sealed it up forever. They all knew she was alive. Wherever she went they would find her and bring her son back. She glanced at David and she saw the terrible light of understanding in his eyes.

“Given all her grounds for divorce, the court cannot understand why Batsheva Harshen simply did not come forth years ago and ask for a divorce and custody. Therefore, because of her erratic behavior, the Court has decided that Isaac Harshen shall be…”

“Please,
kavod harav
,” a voice gruff and low came suddenly from the back of the courtroom, and Abraham Ha-Levi, his face bright with the appalling, radiant glow of suffering that puts a man close to death, came slowly and painfully down the aisle. “I would like to tell
kavod harav
why my daughter did not ask for a divorce years ago.” His voice grew phlegmy and choked, almost inaudible. He stopped and cleared it, and as he did so, he raised his head and for the first time met his daughter’s eyes.

“Years ago, only months after Batsheva married Isaac, she called me and told me of her suffering. But I was a righteous man, you see. I knew everything about duty and piety. It was not that I was a harsh man, no. I was full of pity and compassion, you see. But it was all for myself and the vow I had been forced to make. So there was no pity left for my only daughter or her tears. And then she ran away. I came to Jerusalem. Not because I feared for her. Not because I wanted to help her. But because she would not play the part, you see. I came to threaten her. But then, foolishly, I collapsed. But I am a clever man, clever, and I am always, because of my cleverness, I am always successful. I used my weakness more effectively than I could ever have used my strength. She sat by my side and I saw the pity in her eyes, the love, the regret, and I thought: Now I will have her for good. Now I will make her swear a solemn vow on the life of her parents, on the memory of her grandparents and all the Ha-Levis that had ever perished to sanctify the Holy Name, that she would stay with Isaac and fulfill the
mitzvah
of providing the Ha-Levis with an heir. I told her of the sacred vow I had made to her grandmother on the train to Auschwitz. I told her it was now her responsibility to keep that vow.” He wiped his forehead as the sweat poured down his face. “I must have done a very good job because she never once afterward complained to me. She never told me that her husband beat her. Never once did she try to seek a divorce after that. I did it so cleverly, you see. I took her love for me, for God, for her heritage, and made the most beautiful steel trap out of it, so that there was only one way out. Thank God, she had the courage not to take it. She did the only other thing she could. She went away pretending to have died. Like Jephte’s daughter, who went off into the hills to live alone, to sacrifice her life because her father was a fool who made a foolish vow.”