by Nathan Erez
It is not entirely clear to this day why the revolt broke out. According to one school of thought, it was because Emperor Hadrian wished to turn Jerusalem into a Greek city, with a temple to Zeus. Another school believes that it was because the Romans imposed a ban on circumcision, under a law of the Empire forbidding all its residents from sterilizing or castrating anyone. What is abundantly clear is that this was not an easy battle for either side. The Jews prepared the revolt carefully, and secretly stockpiled a large supply of weaponry. They dug out an extensive and wide-ranging system of tunnels, reinforced walls and towers, and waited for a propitious time. When the revolt finally broke out, they had the advantage of taking the enemy by surprise, and defeated the Romans time after time. The XXII Roman Legion was totally destroyed, and was erased from the history books. The Romans were driven out of Jerusalem and all of Judea.
We are not completely sure about the position of the Jewish Sages during the time of the revolt. Some came out in support of it and others voiced their opposition. The most prominent supporter of the revolt was Rabbi Akiba b. Joseph, who said of Bar Kokhba, “A star [kochav]has risen from Jacob.” Others, on the other hand, saw Bar Kokhba’s actions as a revolt against Heaven itself and some attribute to Bar Kokhba the saying: “Lord of the Universe, do not help us, but also do not hinder us.”
To aid the Roman forces, Hadrian summoned the heroic Julius Severus from Britain. Severus was wise enough not to confront the Jews face to face. Instead, he cut off their supply lines and captured one after another of their fortifications, and advanced slowly, step by step. Hadrian and Severus amassed a mighty army in Judea, consisting of thirteen legions, a force unparalleled in size at that time. Severus believed that the civilian population, with its women, children, and elderly would be unable to hold out for any length of time against a trained army. And he was right. After three years of fierce battles, the Roman army defeated the army of Bar Kokhba. Betar, the last center of the Jews, was annihilated, and with it most of the Jewish settlements in Judea.
Many Roman soldiers were killed in the battles. In fact, the losses were so great that, in writing to the Roman Senate, Hadrian omitted the customary salutation, “If you and your children are well, we are pleased. I and the army are well.” Nevertheless, the losses suffered by the Romans paled into insignificance when compared with the destruction and devastation in Judea. No fewer than a thousand Jewish settlements were destroyed and 600,000 people were killed in the battles and attacks. To this, we may add the numbers - which we will never know - of those who died of starvation, plague, fire, etc. So many Jews were sold into slavery that the price of a slave in the Land of Israel dropped to that of a portion horse fodder.
The results of the revolt were felt for many years to come. Jerusalem was wiped out and was replaced by a Roman city, Aelia Capitolina, in honor of Emperor Hadrian (Aelius Hadrianus). Jews were forbidden to enter the city, a law that remained in force almost until the Moslem conquest of the city. Judea was ravaged. Those few Jews who remained either moved to the Galilee in the north, or left the region altogether. There was a mass migration to the land across the Euphrates and Tigris rivers, and Babylon ultimately became the spiritual center of the Jews.
All the way home, Elijah rehearsed, to the minutest detail, what he would say to Orna to explain what had happened to him. Both he and Orna had doctorates, except that Orna was a world-famous ophthalmologist, while his doctorate was in the field of medieval Hebrew lettering. If anyone called and asked for “the doctor”, there was no doubt as to whom the call was for. That night, though, he would demand equality! He would not tell her immediately about what he had accomplished. He would let her stew for a while, allow her to vent her accumulated bile. After all, because he had not picked up the girls, the nursery school teacher had been obliged to summon Orna from her hospital rounds. Indeed, by the time she had brought them home it was no longer worth her while to return to the hospital, so she was effectively stuck at home for the rest of the day. He would let her continue with her standard litany on how much longer would he continue to agree to work for the measly salary they paid him? And how much longer did he intend to fawn on Landau? He would listen to her patiently and after she finished, he would tell her everything that had happened to him that day, ending with the words: “From this day on, a meeting with me costs $750.”
However, Orna had not even showered yet, as their daughter Michali had suddenly developed a high fever. And Elijah felt a sudden urge to refresh his knowledge on the Bar Kokhba revolt, which Norman had talked about in such detail as if he were describing the latest suicide bombing. Elijah did not remember all the details regarding Hadrian, against whom the revolt had been waged and felt a special need to investigate the shape of Hebrew letters at the time of the revolt, in order to prepare for the delightful work that awaited him when he returned to the Institute the following day. He went over to his bookshelves, which were devoted primarily to the letters of the Hebrew alphabet and to his own personal hobby – from which he derived a great deal of pleasure, but which also aroused in him feelings of horror at the tremendous loss of life - the various conquests of Jerusalem. He opened up the chapter on Aelia Capitolina and read:
“Why did the revolt break out? There are those who say that this was due to the attempt by Emperor Hadrian to build, as a replacement for Jerusalem, a Greek city with a temple to Zeus. Some say it was because of the prohibition against circumcision... “
“Elijah!” Orna called out in a tone of voice that was unmistakable. “Would it be too much of me to ask you for some help with the girls? After such a long day, I am at least entitled to take a shower, am I not?”
Elijah smiled, happy that at long last she would be going for a shower; afterwards he would be able to tell her his news. The Roman law had forbidden circumcision and castration. With a smidgen of self-pity he thought of his own circumcision and for a fleeting moment he felt that the Roman approach had been an infinitely more humane one.
“Elijah, you are driving me crazy! How can you devote all your energies to reading about people who died centuries ago, but not so much as lift a finger to help your own daughters, who are very much alive? You’d better believe me that you’re going to be the one taking the girls to school or the doctor tomorrow, whatever happens.”
Bar Kokhba was a gutsy kind of guy. To say to God, “Lord of the Universe, do not help us, but also do not hinder us,” was a very courageous thing to do. Just reading it gave Elijah the courage to take a stand.
“I’m warning you, Elijah! The only thing you are good at is messing things up! Come here this minute and help me!”
Elijah felt his wife had finally reached boiling point. He didn’t want her to go beyond it, but he also hoped that her constant harping would end from that day on. He started toward the girls’ room, still reading: “After three years of struggle, the Roman army vanquished the troops of Bar Kokhba.”
“Damn it!” Elijah yelled as his foot stubbed the door-post in the hall. A sharp pain made him made him realize that he had miscalculated the turn and that one of the toes on his right foot had collided full-force with the door-post. His thoughts, which had been luxuriating over the different Hebrew letter-forms now focused solely on the agonizing pain in his foot. Holding the book open with one hand, Elijah bent down to rub the offending toe. It was one of those heavy picture-format tomes; all he needed now was for it to fall on his other foot.
“The number of Jews sold into slavery was so great that in the Land of Israel the price of a slave dropped to that of a portion horse fodder.”
“Elijah! I am not your workhorse, when are you going to get that into your head?”
“ ... There was mass migration to the land across the Euphrates and the Tigris Rivers...” Elijah pictured in his mind thousands of backpackers seeking out a spiritual center and finding refuge in the different ashrams of Babylon, which, in the latter part of the 20th century had become Saddam Hussein’s Iraq.
“Well, well
! Hello, Elijah! Have you just arrived? I’ve already put them to bed. Would be so kind as to read Michali a story before she falls asleep? I suggest that whatever you choose to read her shouldn’t deal with conquests, disease, plagues, and death, as she lies there with a temperature of 104 degrees. I’m sure you’ll understand and take that into account this time.” Orna had reverted to cynicism, as she had no strength left to scream at her husband. Not that she had any need to scream, as Elijah was standing right next to her.
Elijah looked at his wife and noted with satisfaction that she was still beautiful, even after giving birth to two babies. To him, this was an objective appraisal, and not only because she was his wife. She had luxurious brown hair which fell in waves over her shoulders; even when she pulled it all up in a rubber band and went about devoid of makeup and dressed in rags, Orna attracted attention wherever she went.
Elijah could no longer contain his excitement and blurted out, “Orna, sweetheart, would you book us a vacation in the Bahamas for a week or two – or as long as you like?” Orna responded with a string of mocking insults; Elijah tried to convince her, in vain, of the seriousness of his intentions and in the meantime, Michali had fallen asleep. Orna went to take her shower, more put-upon and bitter than ever.
The next morning she drove off to work in the family’s only car, not saying a word to Elijah before departing.
Elijah called an emergency babysitter to take care of his sick daughter and sent the healthy girl off to nursery school. He himself left home earlier than usual on foot; he loved walking and the fact that the Luzatto Institute was within walking distance of his home pleased him immensely. He started pondering on the enormity of the calamity that had occurred in the very place where he now walked. Nineteen hundred years ago, you could have heard the cries of the wounded, and from afar you could have seen the city going up in flames. No, he corrected himself in his mind, ever the exacting scholar, it was actually about 1870 years ago. One of the most significant effects of the defeat had been the sudden disappearance of the flowing post-Herodian script.
In every written form and every language there are two primary types. Nowadays, they are referred to as square and cursive. The first is the official letter shape used for printing books and newspapers. The second refers to handwriting, which evolves from the first. When you write something by hand, you tend to want to write more quickly. The letters used in cursive script are affected by the environment, the types of writing instruments available, the paper, the ink, etc. Gradually, over time, letters are shortened, lines are joined, and a new style of handwriting is eventually created, which differs from that of the official letters and that is known as cursive handwriting.
This also applies to Hebrew. The official Hebrew script is what is known as square script. The letters are composed of horizontal and vertical lines, with a few diagonals. Religious works and especially Torah scrolls, are generally – but not always – written using this square script. Letters and other works are written using cursive script, which changes from one era to the next and from one country to another.
At the end of the Hasmonean era and during the Herodian, a unique cursive script began to evolve, an indication of wide-ranging cultural activity and of the fact that more people were literate. This cursive script attained its highest degree of perfection toward the end of the first century C.E., but the manuscripts of the post-Bar Kokhba era, a few decades later, show no trace whatsoever of that script. No sign of it appears on any fragment of parchment, papyrus, or stone carving of that time. People suddenly stopped using the style. They reverted to square script, and developed other cursive scripts. Scholars see this as another sign of the grave calamity that had befallen the Jewish people. Mentally, Elijah had already composed the title of his next article: “The Disappearance of the Post-Herodian Cursive Script.”
Elijah needed only a single glance to identify the different styles of Hebrew cursive script. Within seconds, he could tell if a document was from Spain or Provence, from 19th century Morocco or 14th century Egypt; whether it was from the Crimean Peninsula or had been written by one of the members of the priestly clan of Djerba, Tunis, who according to Jewish tradition had been exiled there after the destruction of the First Temple. There was not a single known form of Hebrew cursive script with which he was not familiar. He enjoyed his expertise, and knew that he was good at it. He had no interest in the contents of the various documents. To him, it was all the same whether a document was a deed of sale for a field, a divorce document of a woman who had infuriated her husband, a letter from a father to a wayward son, or a wearisome commentary on a forgotten work. What attracted him was the form of the letters, the style of the script, the spaces between lines and pages, the type of paper and ink used, and the words as such.
“Never ask me about the content,” he would say. “I can tell you what words were used in this document or that, but as to who wrote them and why, I suggest you check with experts in that field.” Content was simply something that never interested him.
Prof. Adir, a tenured professor in his department, had once told him, “I understand you, Elijah. You are one of those lovers to whom his partner is totally irrelevant, be it the Queen of Sheba or a rubber doll. All you care about are procedures.”
At the time, Elijah had been taken aback by the analogy. However, as Prof. Adir had uncharacteristically made that particular comment to him in private, Elijah chose to ignore it. Instead, he preferred to regard himself as an expert in the history of art, and he considered the manuscripts brought to him as works of art.
Arriving at the corner of Mani Street, Elijah saw from a distance that a man standing next to Norman was locking the doors of the Institute. Close by stood a large black Mercedes taxi (for many years Israeli taxi drivers had a penchant for large black Mercedes cars) with its trunk open. Elijah assumed that the man, who then carried a small suitcase from the Institute and placed it in the trunk of the taxi, was the driver.
“Good morning, Prof. Norman,” Elijah called out, quickening his pace.
For a moment, Norman was taken aback, and his body language seemed to indicate that he wanted the car trunk closed before Elijah could see what it contained. Norman made a sharp turn toward Elijah, and Elijah had the distinct impression that he had not expected to meet him that morning.
“Thanks for the compliment, Prof. Shemtov. To what do we owe the privilege of your arrival so early in the morning?”
Elijah noted that Norman was rather pale and sickly looking. Elijah was confused and felt he had done something wrong.
“Should I help the driver with the suitcases?” asked Elijah guiltily.
“There’s no need,” replied Norman. “Everything has been taken care of. I’m afraid I have to leave; but do keep up the good work. Let me tell you what my father used to say to me: ‘You will bring the fountain.’ Goodbye, Prof. Shemtov, I’ll be in touch with you.”
Elijah had no idea what the reference to “the fountain” was about, but thought this might not be a good time to go into such a question.
Elijah noted the trace of a smile on Norman’s lips, like a weak flashlight on a dark night, or a wayward cloud on a summer’s day. He realized that he had blundered again, but couldn’t understand how. The taxi driver whispered something in Norman’s ear.
Norman turned to Elijah and said, “We are late. Be well.” It was clear that he had difficulty getting into the car, and was only able to do so with the driver’s aid. The taxi drove off.
For the first time, Elijah used his own keys to enter the Institute. The Luzatto Institute was the dream of every scholar. Elijah stationed himself at the table in the lower hall, it was a gigantic mahogany table that was totally empty except for the materials he needed for his work. He was amazed at the pastoral quiet in the Institute and found it hard to comprehend that this building, which was but a short distance from the bustling and vibrant Jerusalem Central Bus Station and its loud sounds, was a haven of tranquility and quiet. Birds chir
ped, and from his window, he could see trees all around. From one of the balconies, you could see clear across to the abandoned Arab village of Lifta, at the entrance to Jerusalem.
Elijah thought of calling Orna to tell her about the magnificent mahogany table, the vast library and the quiet surroundings, but when he tried to do so a recorded feminine voice noted that it was impossible to dial outside. As the rules forbade cellular phones, the scholars of the Institute were effectively cut off from the outside world. And since Elijah had forgotten to give Orna the Institute’s phone number, there was no way she could call him.
“Not a bad way to ensure that your employees do what they’re paid to do,” he thought to himself. He decided to wander around the Institute for a while before settling down to work.
The gallery, which overlooked the main hall, was accessible by two separate staircases. This time, Elijah chose the right-hand staircase, and out of curiosity tried all the doors on the way. Most were locked and appeared to have been that way for quite a while. “I wouldn’t mind living here myself,” he thought. A library and computer downstairs, a bedroom and bathroom upstairs, and total peace and quiet - what more does one need?”
One of the doors was unlocked. He opened it and saw that the room it led to contained a single piece of furniture - a desk. He opened the drawers out of curiosity, but they all seemed to be empty. At the bottom of one drawer, though, he saw what looked like some writing. He looked again and realized it was a piece of paper, which had somehow become stuck and was of a shade close to that of the wood the drawers were made of. He pulled out the paper and was surprised at what he found.
The paper itself was quality stationery stock and had the letterhead in English of a company named “Luria Investments Ltd.” The address was in St. Kitts. Where in blazes was St. Kitts? Below this was a list, evidently of things the person needed to do.
