The Evolution of Ethiopian Jewish Custom
Custom as Cultural Category
“Our idea of dirt is compounded of two things, care for hygiene and respect for conventions. The rules of hygiene change, of course, with changes in our state of knowledge.”32Mary Douglas, Purity and Danger: An Analysis of the Concepts of Pollution and Taboo (London and New York: Routledge, 2002), 7. Dirt is a derivation of a social judgment, and its definition depends on the environment. We may compare this to Aristotle’s ancient question, what gives “good” the quality of being good, or “evil” the quality of being evil? Is it a result of human agreement and choice, or is there a priori good and a priori evil? In my opinion, it is very difficult to determine, and I do not know if we will ever find an answer. I do not necessarily connect good and evil to dirt and impurity, but the methodology for both is the same. In other words, just as dirt and cleanliness are not universal concepts, so good and evil are not universal concepts. Still, for both, the ability of the individual or the group to choose one or the other can reveal something about the nature of the society or the individual within that group.33Minhagei Yisrael, vol. 3, “The economic factor in the formulation of custom,” 65; vol. 1, “Local external influences on the customs of Moroccan Jewry,” 235.
Who is the individual? What is culture? What creates cognitive cultural differences between human beings? We know that there are genes that determine physiological characteristics, such as bone structure and the color of one’s skin and hair. In the past, people made attempts to find significant differences between various groups; for example, between the mentality of “primitives” and the mentality of modern Western people, or between logical and mythical thinking.34H. Hazan, Ha-siach ha-antropologi [The anthropological dialogue], ed. Malka Tal (Tel Aviv, 5753/1993), 42. If we accept the difficulty in deciphering the riddle called “humanity,” the following questions arise: Where can we search for the universal? How does the universal – once we have found it – become unique? In other words, what is the turning point that transforms a value shared among human beings to a value that separates them?
The basic assumption of these questions is that human beings reach some kind of arbitrary agreement that is not dictated by nature, regarding the meaning of things and the reason for the order that they themselves create.35A. Rapp, Humanism: ha-ra’ayon ve-toldotav [Humanism: history of an idea], ed. Tirza Yovel (Tel Aviv, 5751/1991), 41–48. In the beginning, a human being is a blank page, and he himself fills in the content in accordance with his understanding of the social environment. Herein lies the turning point that creates differences between individuals; the fact that we find different ways to understand reality shows that this agreement differs from one society to another.
We give an interpretation to reality using cultural categories of our own creation. Below we will give examples of Jewish customs that support this assertion. Many customs are based on logical principles, and any stricter or looser interpretation of such a custom is based on a logical principle that explains Jewish culture and society.
Rabbi Avraham Yitzhak Hacohen Kook writes:
The minutiae of laws and customs, and the strict interpretations that the Jews have taken upon themselves, represent the intricacies of the inner love of the Jewish people for their God, their Torah, their peoplehood and land, bound together inseparably as one. Inner love and sacred longing attempt to expand in all that they encounter. . . . We fulfill with love the Jewish customs that we know we were not commanded to perform by any prophecy, due to love for our nation. . . . The everlasting foundation is the acceptance of Torah throughout history as our way of life. We find, for example, that the ban of Rabbenu Gershom, where this tradition spread, remains as firm in the heart of the nation as the other prohibitions of the Torah, although he was neither Tanna nor Amora, but because he had the support of the Jewish people.36Cited in Ha-mahshava ha-Yisraelit, ed. Elchanan Clemenson (Jerusalem, 5727/1967), 4.
According to Rabbi Kook, the definition of a custom is based on two components:
The nation creates a custom out of an emotional need, the longing and desire to express the love of God and His mitzvot.
The custom becomes obligatory only if it is accepted by the entire nation.
From the positive, we may deduce the negative. If a new custom leads to separation and disagreement within the nation, it cannot be valid.37See also Minhagei Yisrael, vol. 4 (Tel Aviv, 5755/1995), 24–25. The creation of a custom is a good example of agreement within a certain culture regarding the meaning of an object or situation.
One example of such a custom is yayin nesekh – wine produced by non-Jews that is designated for use in a ritual of idol worship. Use of such wine is forbidden by the Torah. Extrapolating from this, the Sages forbade the wine of non-Jews for drinking or any type of enjoyment, even if it is not meant for use in idol worship – this is the principle of stam yeynam. However, in certain locations, rabbis relaxed part of the prohibition due to special conditions in those places. In the early Middle Ages, the rabbis forbade commerce in stam yeynam, and completely prohibited the use of any wine belonging to a Jew that had come into contact with a non-Jew, or the wine of a non-Jew that was taken as repayment of a debt. Yet in the sixteenth century, they permitted the use of such wine, mainly in Polish towns near the Hungarian border and in Moravian communities.38Y. Katz, Masoret u-mashber [Tradition and crisis] (Jerusalem, 5718/1958), 30–31. See also Minhagei Yisrael, vol. 2, 49–59. The reason for this was that non-Jewish wine had become an important source of income.
Clearly, every religious group is strongly influenced by the environment in which it lives. We may note many examples of this, but we will limit ourselves to one example in which the geographic element has a direct influence on the development of certain customs. During biblical times,39Ezekiel 24:17. mourners would wrap their heads in a shawl, like the head covering that the Muslims call kaffiyeh. Later in history, this ancient custom was annulled, as the Tosafot records: “Today we do not practice wrapping of the head . . . as it would lead to mockery, like the wrapping of the Ishmaelites” (Tosafot, Moed Katan 21a).
Certainly, wrapping the head “like the wrapping of the Ishmaelites” would not lead to mockery by the Ishmaelites. But in Christian provinces, the non-Jews would laugh at the Jews for wrapping, and so the Jews did not follow this practice. Thus the annulment of this custom could only develop on Christian territory.40Minhagei Yisrael, vol. 3, “The economic factor in the formulation of custom,” 65. For this reason, Yemenite Jews who came from a Muslim environment followed this practice until recently.41Y. Razhabi, Be-ma’agalot Teiman [Among Yemenite circles] (Tel Aviv, 5748/1988), 44. See also Minhagei Yisrael, vol. 4, 62–63.
Before entering their synagogue (masjid), the Jews of Ethiopia would remove their shoes, and only after that were they permitted to enter the synagogue (according to the testimony of my grandfather, Abba Gideon Mengesha, ztz”l). I remember this event from my childhood – hundreds of pairs of shoes arranged neatly at the entrance to the synagogue. The congregants stood barefoot. I also recall that the floor of the synagogue was covered with carpets or tree branches. The synagogues in Ethiopia had no chairs or benches – the congregants stood throughout the entire service. I asked my grandfather about the source for this tradition, and he replied that according to the sources, it is forbidden to enter a holy place wearing shoes. Indeed, the Mishnah records that wearing shoes was forbidden in the Temple: “One may not enter the holy mount with his staff, or with his sandal, or with his belt-pouch, or with dust on his feet” (Mishnah, Berakhot 9:5).
The synagogue is considered a mikdash me’at, a miniature Temple. The rabbis instituted prayer in the synagogue as a replacement for the ritual practiced in the destroyed Temple, and yet wearing shoes was not forbidden inside the synagogue. The Rambam writes: “A person is permitted to enter a synagogue [holding] his staff, [wearing] his shoes, wearing [only] lower garments, or with dust on his feet.”42Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Tefillah ve-Nesiat Kapayim 11:10.
The question again arises, why did the custom change among rabbinic Jewry? And why did Ethiopian Jewry continue to follow the original custom? In order to answer this question, we must explore two conceptions of the connection between the individual and God in prayer.
In today’s siddur, we find that the individual’s relationship with his Creator is ambivalent.43Y. Heineman, Ha-tefillah bi-tekufat ha-Tannaim ve-ha-Amoraim [Prayer in the period of the Tannaim and Amoraim] (Jerusalem, 5724/1964). On the one hand, it is respectful, and on the other, submissive.
The two forms of consciousness recognize the existential gap between God and the individual, but each views it in a different light. This difference is expressed in the concept of God, the concept of human beings, and of the relationship between them. For the inferior side, a consciousness of respect creates the need to raise himself so that he will be worthy of an encounter with that which is greater than he. The inferior side, in this case, the human being, must adapt himself in a temporary, artificial manner to the status of respect, in order to bridge the gap between himself and God and to be worthy of meeting with Him. By contrast, a consciousness of submission creates for the inferior the need to diminish his appearance and to emphasize the chasm that exists between himself and the person greater than he. Through his inferiority and self-debasement, the inferior expresses his dependence on the other. Only by emphasizing this dependence is the inferior eligible to stand before one who is greater than he.44Waltzer et al., Ha-masoret ha-politit ha-Yehudit, vol. 1.
From my knowledge of the Ethiopian Jewish religious world, I may say that it is characterized by a relationship of submission, as opposed to what is accepted in Western culture. For this reason, the Ethiopian Jew’s worship of God focuses on the difference between him and the construct that is greater than him (God). Removing one’s shoes is an expression of the inferiority of human beings. Therefore, when Ethiopian Jews enters a place that symbolizes the distance and difference between human beings and God, they must remove their shoes, and in places where the worship of God migrates to a mode of respect, the custom of removing shoes is annulled. Annulment of this custom expresses the change a society experiences in its understanding of the relationship between humanity and God.
In summary, we have seen how the accepted values of one society may be rejected by another society. The changing relationship has no objective explanation; rather, it is a cultural and environmental change.45Douglas, Purity and Danger. This distinction forms the background of this book.
The Ethiopian Church
Ethiopia is one of the most ancient Christian countries in the world. King Ezana of Ethiopia was one of the earliest rulers to convert to Christianity, in 333 CE, preceded only by the conversion of the ruler of Armenia in 301 CE and the conversion of the Roman emperor Constantine in 312 CE.46Hagai Erlich, Etiopiah ve-ha-Mizrah ha-Tihon: Tarbut matzor ve-alpayim shnot [Ethiopia and the Middle East: A besieged culture and two thousand years], ed. Hagai Boaz (Tel Aviv: Broadcast University, 5768/2008). The many years that have passed since then have granted Christianity an important place in Ethiopian culture. Christianity penetrated Ethiopia when the basic components of Ethiopian life were first being defined, and ever since, it has formed an inseparable part of the state’s foundations and cultural-political fabric. In traditional Ethiopia, only two institutions have tried to define and lead the daily life of the population on a national basis, and only they had the ability to do so. These were the emperor and the Ethiopian church, which he headed.47However, the relationship between the church and political life was much more complex than the fact that all members of the ruling classes were Christians (ibid.).
The Ethiopian Christians were the only Ethiopians who regularly attempted to document and preserve their history in writing. Other population groups in Ethiopia preserved detailed traditions, but they did not record these in writing in a methodical fashion. The monopoly over written culture, in combination with political authority, granted the Christians almost total hegemony over consolidation and preservation of the historical narrative. Until recently, non-Christian groups occupied a marginal, even negligible, position in the history of the country.48Ibid.
What do we know about Beta Israel, which has been considered a Jewish community ever since ancient times?49H. Erlich, H. Salmon, and S. Kaplan, Etiopiah, Natzrut, Islam, ve-Yehadut [Ethiopia, Christianity, Islam, and Judaism] (Tel Aviv, 5763/2003). In the heart of the state of Habash,50See Rabbi Haim David Shlush, Nidhei Yisrael yikanes: Al Yehudei Habash [Gathering the far-flung remnants of Israel: On the Habash Jews] (Tel Aviv, 5748/1988). The beginning of this book discusses the origin and meaning of the name Habash. which is Ethiopia, lived a unique tribe, different in its religion from the rest of the population. The Habesha people called them falashim, meaning “exiled,” while the members of the tribe preferred to call themselves Beta Israel.51For more on the meaning of the name Beta Israel, see Aharon Ze’ev Eshkoli, Sefer ha-Falashim [The book of the Falasha] (Jerusalem, 5703/1943), chapter 1, 1–12; Haim Rosen, Falashim, ka’ila o Beit Yisrael [Falasha, ka’ila, or Beta Israel]. For hundreds of years, the Beta Israel community maintained a complex network of ties with neighbors and Ethiopian rulers, Christians and members of other religions, and in modern times the community encountered the European Protestant missions. In addition to internal ties, the community developed connections with Jews in other countries, which led to complex relationships. These ties had far-reaching consequences for the formation of their identity and the character of their life as Jews in Ethiopia.52Erlich et al., Etiopiah, Natzrut, Islam, ve-Yehadut.
In the ancient chronicles of the Habash kings, we read with bated breath of the cruel wars against the Falasha, who denied the basic principles of Christianity. These wars continued for almost five hundred years. Their enemies had to admit that the Beta Israel defended themselves heroically against their persecutors. Unintentionally, the authors of the chronicles express amazement and admiration at the courage of the men, women, and children who chose martyrdom over conversion.53M. Wurmbrand, Sefer mitzvot ha-Shabbat shel Beta Israel [The book of Shabbat mitzvot of Beta Israel], Mahut 8–9 (1991–1992).
During the period called Kifu Qen (the Terrible Days, 1888–1892), about half of Beta Israel perished in a severe famine.54Erlich et al., Etiopiah, Natzrut, Islam, ve-Yehadut, 292. Members of today’s community are a thin remnant of a numerous people that played an important role in the history of Habash.55Today the community numbers over 121,000 individuals. Most of them are immigrants to Israel and their offspring, who came to Israel during two major aliyah operations: Operation Moses (1984) and Operation Solomon (1991). As of 2009, some 81,000 Ethiopian residents of Israel were born in Ethiopia, while 38,500 (32 percent of the community) were native-born Israelis. The national tradition of the Habash and their leaders documents the influence of Judaism on the formation of the spiritual and social image of Habash culture. According to several Ethiopian traditions, before the arrival of Christianity, about half of the population of Aksum56The Kingdom of Aksum was the cradle of the Ethiopian nation, where the first cultural patterns were established in 100–940 CE. Researchers accept that it grew out of the proto-Aksumite Ethiopian period, circa fifth century BCE to first century CE. Aksum was the first capital of the Habash state (Erlich et al., Etiopiah, Natzrut, Islam, ve-Yehadut). was Jewish. We may assume that this is a gross exaggeration, but still, the penetration of knowledge of the Bible and basic biblical Hebrew texts had a deep influence on ancient Ethiopian culture. For many years, the Christians in Ethiopia circumcised their sons on the eighth day after birth. They observed Shabbat and followed biblical laws of kashrut, and considered themselves the descendants of the ancient Israelites.57The Jewish influence during the pre-Christian period also produced many words and basic terms in Ge’ez (Erlich et al., Natzrut, Islam, ve-Yehadut). On this, see also Yitzhak Greenfeld, “Masoret ha-tefillot shel Yehudei Etiopiah” [The prayer traditions of Ethiopian Jewry], Mahut 22 (5761/2001).
Ge’ez: The Sacred Language
We do not know what language the ancient ancestors of Beta Israel spoke. Did they have prayers and sacred writings in Hebrew? Did they understand it? Clearly, in Habash they spoke the local language of Agaw in its various dialects. Today, the Beta Israel speak Amharic or Tigrinya, according to their place of habitation. The sacred texts in their possession and other books are written in the ancient Ethiopian language of Ge’ez, which remains the language of the Habesh church today. Bishop Samuel Gobat relates that he heard from Falashas about books in Hebrew that were buried in the city of Gondar to protect them from falling into enemy hands.58Greenfeld, “Masoret ha-tefillot shel Yehudei Etiopiah”; Samuel Gobat, Journal of Three Years’ Residence in Abyssinia (New York, 1850). But to this day, no Hebrew texts have been found among the Falashas. Filosseno Luzzatto relates that the last king of Beta Israel burned their history books before he died, during the war of destruction waged against them by Emperor Susenyos (c. 1617).59Filosseno Luzzatto, Mémoire sur les Juifs d’Abyssinie ou Falashas (Paris, c. 1852). If such books did indeed exist, we cannot know in what language they were written. We may only estimate that the persecutions, which did not succeed in destroying the Falashas, did succeed in completely destroying their literature.60Wurmbrand, Sefer mitzvot ha-Shabbat shel Beta Israel, 8–9. See also Michael Corinaldi, Yehadut Etiopiah: Zehut u-masoret [Ethiopian Jewry: Identity and tradition] (Jerusalem, 5749/1989); S. Kaplan, “Historiyah ketzarah shel Yehudei Etiopiah” [A short history of Ethiopian Jewry] in Natalya Berger, ed., Beta Israel: Sippuram shel Yehudei Etiopiah [Beta Israel: The story of Ethiopian Jewry] (5748/1988). At any rate, in the fourteenth century Amharic replaced Ge’ez as the spoken language, but Ge’ez remained the liturgical language, for the Ethiopian church as well as for Beta Israel. To this day, any religious ceremony, whether prayer services, songs, reading the Torah, blessings, or memorial service, is held in Ge’ez. We should note that the vast majority of Beta Israel do not know Ge’ez, and so every religious ceremony is entirely dependent on the kes, who is proficient in the language.
First Contact with Other Jews
The appearance of the Protestant mission in Ethiopia in the mid-nineteenth century represented one of the most significant turning points in the history of the Beta Israel community. Until then, Ethiopian Jewry had no contact with other Jewish groups, and they were not even aware of the existence of a Jewish Diaspora worldwide. Ironically, it was the encounter with the Western missionaries that began the period of contact with the general Jewish world and the initial definition of their Jewish identity. The encounter of the Christian mission also led to the initial awareness and interest of world Jewry in the Ethiopian Jewish community. Contacts between world Jewish organizations and the community were established, leading to changes in the definition of its identity from an internal Ethiopian group to a Diaspora community of “Ethiopian Jewry.”61Erlich et al., Etiopiah, Natzrut, Islam, ve-Yehadut. As mentioned, until the eighteenth century, knowledge of the lost Jewish tribe in Ethiopia was vague and limited, based on rumor and legend. The Ethiopian Jews never viewed themselves as belonging to the locals spiritually – rather, they considered themselves foreigners who had been exiled from their city of origin, Jerusalem, and who awaited the moment when they could return there.62The prayers of Ethiopian Jewry are interlaced with expressions of longing for Jerusalem. This explains why the prayers of Sigd, the community’s special holiday, focus on supplications and longing for the return to Zion.
In the mid-nineteenth century, relations with the Jewish community outside Ethiopia developed and a process of material assistance for Habash Jewry began. Still, we may say that the main stimulus for awareness of Beta Israel and granting them assistance was missionary activity. As M. Eliav writes, “The main factor in arousing public awareness was missionary activity in Habash. In the early nineteenth century, European Jewry noted with deep concern the expanding activities of the missions in hunting for souls among Jews in various countries.63M. Eliav, “Hitorerut shel Yehudei Eiropa le-ezrat ha-Falashim” [The awakening of European Jewry to aid the Falashas], Tarbiz 35 (5727/1967). In 1862, at the yearly assembly of the missionary society in London, Henry Aaron Stern (a German Jew from Hessen, Germany, who had converted to Christianity) reported on his journey to Habash. He noted the success of missionary activity among the Falashas, and emphasized that he himself had underestimated the potential for the mission’s success.
At the end of his speech, he announced his plans for a second trip, and stressed that there was no reason to fear the reaction of European Jewry. Even if the Jews wanted to send a mission, the representatives would encounter great difficulty should they try to convince the Falashas to accept traditional or Reform Judaism, “more than our difficulty in convincing them to accept Christianity.”64Ibid. Another reason that contributed to the interest of world Jewry was the surprising appearance of two Habash Jews in Jerusalem, Daniel ben Hananiah and his son Moshe, who arrived in 5615/1855. Their story spread throughout Jerusalem and led to an exchange of letters between the sages of that city and the Ethiopian priests.65M. Waldman, Me-ever la-Nahar Cush [Beyond the River Cush] (Tel Aviv, 5749/1989).
Zionism Comes to Ethiopia
Abba Mahari was born into the Beta Israel community in the early nineteenth century in the Kawara district. After he was ordained as a kes, Mahari became a monk and lived a life of isolation in which he wandered from one village to another, teaching Torah to Jews. Henry Stern first met Abba Mahari in 1860, about two years before Mahari led the Beta Israel community in an attempt to make aliyah. Stern gives the following description of their meeting:
Abba Mahari, the leader, appeared in a turban white as snow and garments of the same color, holding a long bamboo staff, like a bishop’s staff, and moving with hushed weightiness. There was something imposing and majestic in the appearance of the man, which one could scarcely behold without admiration and reverence. In my opinion, he was about sixty years old, his appearance noble and authoritative, his forehead high and expressive, his eyes sad and restless, and his expression, which before had undoubtedly been moderate and attractive, had become quite strange and other-worldly as a result of self-training and abstinence.66Shoshanah Ben-Dor, “Ha-masa le-ever Eretz Yisrael: Ha-sippur al Abba Mahari,” Pa’amim 33 (5748/1987). The original is found in Stern’s “Communities,” published in the missionary journal Jewish Intelligence, July 1, 1861.
Mahari’s messages were based on principles of messianism and Zionism, and he informed the Beta Israel of the inception of Zionism. Most of his pronouncements were directed toward one goal – aliyah to Israel and ending the Diaspora. Factors that influenced Abba Mahari included the civil war taking place at that time among district princes and noble families, and the missionary activity that affected the Jews. But above all, Abba Mahari was influenced by the ascendancy of Emperor Tewodros II, who valued the Jews and aspired to conquer Jerusalem from the Muslims. He is known for declaring, “Jerusalem is the wife and Ethiopia is the husband.” Abba Mahari viewed these events as signs of the approaching end of the Diaspora. According to tradition, the God of Israel revealed Himself to Abba Mahari in a dream and said, “The time of redemption has arrived. You must lead the Jews to the Land of Israel.”
Abba Mahari gathered thousands of Beta Israel and told them about the vision. They followed him on a tortuous journey. When they reached the Red Sea, they stood gazing at the water, but it refused to part. Many began to doubt the reliability of the dream, and begged Abba Mahari to return to Ethiopia. Abba Mahari tried to calm the public, and spoke to them about Zionism: “We must believe that God is testing us, as he did our forefathers during the Exodus from Egypt. He parted the sea then, and He will do so now as well.” He believed that God was with him, watching over the community. Abba Mahari raised his staff over the water, but it did not divide. He entered the sea first, followed by thousands who believed that God would part the waters. Instead, many drowned. The survivors returned to Ethiopia, settled in villages, and established a Jewish community in the Tigray area. The first attempted journey of Ethiopian Jewry to the Land of Israel was thus a stinging failure that claimed many victims. It also represented an attempt at transition from imagination to rationality, and left behind stories of heroism of simple people who believed that the time would come when their children would cross the ocean and return home to the Land of Israel, to build and be strengthened there.
This attempted aliyah was transformed into myth for many of the Beta Israel. Some 120 years later, it inspired them to leave their villages and march toward Israel. This journey, which began with Abba Mahari, continues with Ethiopian immigrants who undertook the journey to Israel.
The State of Israel
After the State of Israel was established, mass aliyah began. Hopes were rekindled of bringing the Ethiopian Jews to Israel – “the far-flung and remote members of our people,”67This was thanks to the efforts of Dr. Jacques Faitlovitch, then director of the International Pro-Falasha Committee. as documented in this letter, sent by the Ethiopian Jewish community to the president of the nascent State of Israel:
For thousands of years, we have waited for the coming of the Messiah to take us away from here and bring us back to Jerusalem, the goal for which our fathers and forefathers fought. Now that the redemption has arrived, and we are left as a remnant of a numerous people, the waiting is very difficult for us.68Y. Azrieli and S. Meizlisch, Ha-mesimah Etiopiah [Mission Ethiopia] (Jerusalem, 5749/1989), 18–59.
This letter inspired an enthusiastic response. Leaders of the Jewish state and heads of the Jewish Agency held discussions late into the night, and finally a historic decision was made: “We must help them!” The directors of the Department of Religious Education and Culture in the Diaspora were charged with implementing the decision.69Ibid. Still, due to uncertainties surrounding the Ethiopian Jews’ origin, no practical steps were made to carry out the decision. The Jewish world adopted an ambivalent stance toward the community, with the reaction wavering from extremes of encouragement and support to turning its back and ignoring the community’s existence, from displays of unrelenting curiosity to disappointment and indifference.70S. Kaplan, “Al ha-temurot be-heker Yehadut Etiopiah” [Contributions to Research on Ethiopian Jewry], Pa’amim 58, 5754/1994. Only in 1973 did a turning point take place in the attitude toward the community. The spearhead for this change was a declaration made by the former Chief Sephardic Rabbi of Israel, the late Rabbi Ovadia Yosef:
I have thus come to the conclusion that the Falashas are the descendants of Israelite tribes who moved south to Cush. It is beyond doubt that the above-mentioned sages who determined that they are from the tribe of Dan have researched and studied the issue, and reached this conclusion based on very reliable evidence. As a young member of the Israelite tribes, I have also researched and studied this issue intensively, after Falasha leaders asked me to join them to their fellow Jews in the spirit of Torah, both Oral and Written, and of halakhah, without restriction, and to enable them to keep all the mitzvot of the Holy Torah according to the instruction of our rabbis, by whose words we live. I have thus decided that in my humble opinion, the Falashas are Jews, whom we must save from assimilation. We must encourage their rapid aliyah to Israel, educate them in the spirit of our Holy Torah, and involve them in the building of our Holy Land, “and your children shall return to their own border” (Jeremiah 31:16).71Shu”t yabia omer, part 8, Even ha-Ezer, par. 11. This response was written in reply to a letter addressed to Rabbi Ovadia Yosef by First Sergeant Hezi Ovadia, an Ethiopian-born Jew of Yemenite origin. In the letter, Hezi asks the rabbi to make a final decision regarding the Jewish status of the Beta Israel community. I would like to take this opportunity to thank Hezi for his efforts on behalf of the Ethiopian community.
Practically speaking, Rabbi Yosef instructed that the Ethiopian Jews undergo conversion according to strict interpretation of the halakhah, due to uncertainty over intermarriage with non-Jews,72After further investigation into the issue of Jewish-non-Jewish relations in Ethiopia, and after learning that the Ethiopian Jews were very careful about maintaining insulation from the Christian environment, this strict ruling was annulled. Instead, a special bureau was established under the direction of Rabbi Yosef Hadana, chief rabbi of the community, to conduct an additional investigation into each case individually. even though in his opinion there was no reason to fear the status of mamzerut (illegitimate birth, as defined in halakhah – see “Strict Conversion and the Status of Mamzer” in chapter 5), as their marriage ceremonies were not halakhically valid. After Rabbi Yosef’s decision, a historic decision was made in the Israeli Knesset, recognizing the Falashas as Jews in every way, and determining that they should be brought to Israel as immigrants under the Law of Return. The Ethiopian Jews were enthusiastic – more than ever, they felt that their heart’s desire was about to be fulfilled. The path to the Land of Israel was finally approaching. One of the community leaders expressed the joy over this decision as follows:
As in the words of the prophet, “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger of good tidings, that announces peace, the harbinger of good tidings, that announces salvation” (Isaiah 52:7). In the past weeks, we, the Jews of Ethiopia, the Falashas, have received the good tidings that the government of the State of Israel has decided to include the Ethiopian Jews among the Jewish people as enjoying rights under the Law of Return, like any other immigrant from Diaspora nations.73Azrieli and Meizlisch, Ha-mesimah Etiopiah, 38.
The aliyah of the Ethiopian Jews intensified Israel’s character as a museum representing different periods and cultures. Wondrously, members of a people that had dispersed more widely than any other nation, thousands of years ago, and that was living in all corners of the world, came together and united into one body. The ability of the Jewish people in Israel and the world to cooperate to solve the seemingly impossible problem of saving Ethiopian Jewry is triumphant evidence of Jewish solidarity. Solidarity and love for others as they are is the secret of existence for the entire Jewish people throughout its history, as well as of the modern State of Israel.74Y. Ephraim, “Ha-solidariyut ha-Yehudit ve-Yehudei Etiopiah” [Jewish solidarity and Ethiopian Jewry], in Solidariyut Yehudit leumit ba-et ha-hadashah [National Jewish solidarity in modern times], Binyamin Pinkus and Ilan Trowan, eds. (5748–49/1988–89).
Religious Literature
The halakhic tradition of Beta Israel was passed down from father to son, from kes to kes and community to community. There are no books other than this one that collect the halakhic tradition in an organized fashion. There is one exception, in the form of twenty-two verses of the tenth chapter of the book Te’ezaz Senbet. These verses, which are apparently a copy or reconstruction from the book of Jubilees, are the only halakhic source in the Beta Israel literature. Despite the almost complete absence of halakhic works, the community does possess some sixty-eight sacred works, most of which are apocalyptic. The Tanakh is one of these. The others are apocryphal works in the order accepted by the Church according to the Lucan version of the Septuagint, and other works of biblical and aggadic nature.
Most of the sacred works that the community possesses were borrowed from the Ethiopian church. The manuscripts were purchased or copied from church literature in the Ge’ez language. The community sages would then “convert” them, meaning they chose texts of a biblical character that were acceptable to both religions and did not emphasize Christian themes. For example, they chose stories of the deaths of the forefathers, keeping Shabbat, reward and punishment, and the fate of the soul after death. Then the community’s scribes made changes in the body of the text. They distorted figures of crosses on the book covers, replaced mention of the Christian Trinity with the blessing “Blessed is He, the God of Israel, God of all spirit and body,” and exchanged the name of Jesus with the name Egziabher (“Master of All,” a name for the Creator of the universe). Later scribes improved on the work of their predecessors and deleted allusions to Christianity that survived after the first redaction.75Yossi Ziv, “Hilkhot Shabbat shel ‘Beta Yisrael’ lefi Tataza Sanvet,” doctoral dissertation, Department of Talmud, Bar-Ilan University (5769/2009); Kaplan, Motzam shel Beta Yisrael: Hamesh he-arot metodologiyot [Five methodological notes], Pa’amim 33 (5748/1987): 33–49.
A Unique Halakhic Tradition
Many researchers have expressed interest in the history and culture of Ethiopian Jewry. Expression of this is found in the extensive travel literature describing the lives of the Falashas.76James Bruce, Travels to Discover the Sources of the Nile, 2d ed. (Edinburgh, 1805). This is a description of James Bruce’s journey to Ethiopia in the late eighteenth century, and includes many references to the Falashas. See also Y. Halevy, “Masa be-Habash le-gilui ha-Falashim” [Journey to Habash to discover the Falashas], Pa’amim 58 (5754/1994): 5–66. This article gives Halevy’s full report of his travels among the Ethiopian Jews, with notes by Professor Steven Kaplan. See also Azrieli and Meizlisch, Ha-mesimah Etiopiah; Y. Kahane, Ahim shehorim hayim be-kerev ha-Falashim [Black brothers live among the Falashas] (Tel Aviv, 5738/1978). Steven Kaplan provides a comprehensive survey of the history of Beta Israel from its inception to the twentieth century.77Steven Kaplan, The Beta-Israel (Falasha) in Ethiopia: From Earliest Times to the Twentieth Century (New York: NYU Press, 1995). Against the background of the waves of aliyah from Ethiopia in the last few decades, we find heightened interest of social science researchers in the issue of the move to Israel and its influence on customs and traditions, in changes in social structures such as the family, and in the question of the young generation’s identity in its encounter with the Israeli educational institutions and the army.78S. Weil, Emunot u-minhagim shel Yehudei Etiopiah be-Yisrael [Beliefs and customs of Ethiopian Jews in Israel] (Jerusalem, 5749/1989); S. Weil, Yehudei Etiopiah ba-ma’avar bein tarbuti: Ha-mishpahah ba-ma’agal ha-hayim [Ethiopian Jewry in transition between cultures: The family in the life cycle] (Jerusalem, 5754/1994); Waldman, Me-ever la-Nahar Cush; Corinaldi, Yehadut Etiopiah: Zehut u-masoret; Shlush, Nidhei Yisrael yikanes: Al Yehudei Habash; D. Bodovsky and Y. David, Sugiyot be-nosei mishpaha shel Yehudei Etiopiah [Issues on the subject of families among Ethiopian Jewry] (Jerusalem, 5752/1992); M. Shabbtai, Hakhi ahi: Masa ha-zehut shel hayalim olim me-Etiopiah [My best bro’: The journey of identity of new immigrant soldiers from Ethiopia] (Tel Aviv, 5765/2005); M. Shabbtai, Bein reggae le-rap [From reggae to rap] (Tel Aviv, 5761/2001). We also find studies of the story of the journey of Ethiopian Jewry to Israel, and the place of this narrative in the collective and cultural memory of the group.79G. Ben-Ezer, Kemo or ba-kad: Aliyatam u-klitatam shel Yehudei Etiopiah [Like light in a pot: The immigration and absorption of Ethiopian Jewry] (Tel Aviv, 5752/1992). Some of the studies that address the traditions and beliefs of Beta Israel are part of early research in this field.80Eshkoli, Sefer ha-Falashim [The book of the Falashas] (Jerusalem, 5733/1973). See also Aharon Ze’ev Eshkoli, “Ha-halakhah ve-ha-minhag bein Yehudei Habash le-or ha-halakhah ha-rabbanit ve-ha-Karait” [Halakhah and custom among the Jews of Habash in light of rabbinic and Karaite halakhah], Tarbiz 7 (5796/1936): 31–134; Wolf Laslau, Falasha Anthology: Translated from Ethiopic Sources (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1979), an introduction on Beta Israel customs and beliefs, with discussion of the sacred texts. Among recent studies, we find an attempt to compare the customs of the Ethiopian community practiced today to ancient customs practiced among the Jewish people.81S. Shalom, “Minhagei brit ha-milah etzel Beta Israel” [Circumcision customs among the Beta Israel], MA thesis, Bar-Ilan University; Y. Ziv, “Tumah ve-taharah etzel ha-kehillah ha-Etiopit” [Impurity and purity in the Ethiopian community], MA thesis, Bar-Ilan University. Among these studies, we find the overwhelming assertion that the Beta Israel community was cut off from halakhic development based on the Sages’ rulings. In other words, Beta Israel was completely uninfluenced by the fundamental historical events that accompanied the development of the Jewish people after the destruction of the Second Temple. The Beta Israel community continued Jewish tradition anchored in the biblical spirit, as opposed to the Talmudic way of thinking.