by Nathan Erez
“Elijah!” Shlomo called out warmly and got up from his chair. The two men shook hands and embraced, thumping each other on the shoulder, as if trying to beat the dust out of the their clothes. Elijah could not but note - with a clear sense of superiority - that Shlomo had gained a lot of weight since their last meeting over ten years ago, whereas, he, Elijah, had kept the same weight for years. That’s very uncharitable of me, Elijah thought to himself as he sat down.
“Let’s not waste time on formalities: I’ll ask you ‘How’re things,’ and you’ll say ‘Fine,’ and neither of us will have learned anything of value,” said Shlomo. “All I can tell you is that I can’t spend much time with you, as I have another meeting scheduled soon.”
“That’s fine with me. In fact, I have a very specific question to ask you: How have you managed to program artificial intelligence to analyze ancient manuscripts?”
“I’ll tell you briefly,” said Shlomo. “The first generation of programmers tried to have the computer mimic human thought processes when they play chess - but they had no way of knowing exactly how people think. They used brute force by having the computers analyze every possibility and then come up with a move. What this meant, though, was that the computers became so bogged down with the millions of possibilities that their moves were not always the best under the circumstances. Well, the programmers soon realized that people do not work that way at all. A chess player - unlike a computer - will not examine all the possibilities. Intuitively, he will examine three or four lines of attack and decide which one to use. It was only when this analysis was made and the computers were programmed to react the same way people do in playing chess, that the computer was able to defeat a human opponent. We adapted these techniques in analyzing documents.”
“Now that computers have reached a high level, is it still necessary for them to emulate the human brain and select only certain lines of thought?” asked Elijah.
“It may take another forty years for computers to be able to do that. If we look at the number of cells in the human brain and especially at the number of neurons, we are talking about billions of cells. And then we have to consider the links between them, which are the basis of all human thought. A number of years ago, a computer analyst laid down a ‘law’ - Moore’s Law - which states that computer power doubles every eighteen months. This, indeed, has been the situation more or less since the invention of the computer. If we can maintain that ‘law,’ it will take about forty years for us to develop computers with the capacity of the human brain. Of course, Moore’s Law is subject to changes in both directions. It’s possible that a major breakthrough will take place that will accelerate the process tremendously, but by the same token, it’s possible that unforeseen difficulties will impede the process.”
“That means we won’t be around to see it,” Elijah muttered, half to himself.
“And it will be better if we aren’t,” said Shlomo immediately. “Imagine what would happen to us. I can already visualize demonstrations by the ‘Committee to Liberate the Computer’ with demands for equal rights for computers.”
“You mean the ‘Committee to Abolish Modern Slavery’,” Elijah prompted him. “There’ll be demands to give computers their personal freedom, equality, pensions, free upgrading and repairs at the expense of the state. And don’t forget a fair shake for old computers, and a prohibition against just junking them.”
“Exactly. And imagine what would happen if one of these computers becomes a prophet named Karl Marx Comp, and enters into a jihad against the carbon-based creatures that are destroying the environment. By that time, there’ll be many more of them, and they’ll be far less vulnerable and more powerful.”
“It’ll be easy for computers to destroy us in a few seconds,” Elijah chimed in. “If they unite, they’ll be able to cut off all our water and electricity supplies. And, of course, they can launch several nuclear weapons.”
“All we can do is to ask for an honorable surrender,” said Shlomo as he waved his hands in lieu of a white flag. “That is, if they even deign to speak to us. I’m already depressed about the future of mankind. It’s best not to talk about it at all.”
Both laughed, and Elijah went onto the next stage.
“Do you, by any chance, know someone by the name of David Norman?”
Shlomo looked at Elijah long and hard. “I guessed that was the reason why you wanted to see me. I only met him once and I spoke to him once on the phone, but he’s the type of person who is very hard to forget. He heard about the program we had developed to examine Torah scrolls. As you know, the Torah scroll has to be hand-written on parchment and must be perfect. If a single letter is missing or a single extra letter appears in the scroll, it may not be used. According to Jewish law, after a Torah scroll is written it must be examined three times for accuracy. We developed a program that mimics the actions of those scroll-checkers. It checks that each letter is within the parameters of acceptability in terms of Jewish law, that each letter that should be present is indeed present, and that there are no superfluous letters. For example, by Jewish law, each letter has to be of a specific shape. Let us say that a particular letter has to have a specific horizontal line at the top. In the course of time, the ink of a handwritten letter might crack, so that there isn’t a solid line at the top of the letter. That would invalidate that letter - and hence the entire Torah scroll. Our program will check that as well.”
“Let me guess. I bet the rabbis were opposed to this program.”
“Of course. However, we also found another use for our program. As Torah scrolls are hand-written, each one is totally unique. By using our program, we’re able to build up a database of each individual Torah scroll. If a Torah scroll is ever stolen, it is a simple thing to apply our program to it and identify its actual owner.”
“And Norman is somehow or other involved in this,” sighed Elijah. “I suppose you can use the same technique to identify other manuscripts.”
“Elijah, of course you are concerned with your specialty, but in the long term we can use our program for many other applications in various fields. For example, if a computer program is somehow deleted, it’s important to be able to reconstruct it exactly as it was before. A single misplaced comma in the program can prevent its reconstruction and can even, in some circumstances, lead to the destruction of the computer itself. Norman was looking for an infallible way to reconstruct material.”
“And you developed such a program for him?”
“We explained to him that in order to do what he wanted, he would need two supercomputers.”
Elijah sat up straight. He remembered the two supercomputers that Luria had tried to smuggle out of the United States.
“And what did he say about that?”
“That he owned some of the most advanced computers in the world.”
There was something strange about that. According to Gabi Moldovan, Luria had failed in its efforts to export the supercomputers from the United States, but according to Shlomo, Norman had nevertheless found a way to obtain access to such computers.
“Do you have any idea where these computers are located?”
“In my opinion, they’re not in Israel, but that’s only based on bits and pieces of hints I’ve picked up. No one in the high-tech community in Israel is aware of any such computers in the country - but then again, we might be wrong.”
“Well, did you complete all the programming?”
“Tell me, wouldn’t you work night and day if you could earn millions of dollars?”
“Shlomo, that's perfectly legitimate. There’s no need for you to apologize.”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing with him right now?”
“You mean earning millions of dollars?”
“No, working night and day. Norman is not the type of person you can say ‘no’ to.”
“Actually, he offered me a job, and I came to you to hear more about him. I must tell you that from what I hear from you, things look v
ery good.”
“I have to go. Take my advice: work for him and build up some savings.”
“One last question,” said Elijah. He had evidently seen too many episodes of ‘Columbo’ and was beginning to fancy himself as a more modern version of that detective. Orna had once said that Elijah was a mixture of naivety and ineptness. “Would you have any idea where the funding came from?”
“I received my checks from Cordoba Investments, and they were signed by the company’s CEO, John MacDonald.”
The Seventh Sphere
When Titus Conquered Jerusalem
In the year 823 after the founding of Rome, which was 70 C.E., Titus Flavius Vespasianus conquered Jerusalem. The conquest was far from easy, and Titus’s victory over the rebellious Jews was one of the primary reasons why the Roman Senate granted him very special honors. Officially, it was noted that it was only through his father’s advice and the help of the gods that he had managed to subdue the Jewish people and destroy the city of Jerusalem. All who had tried to conquer this city had failed. While this account is historically inaccurate, it does indicate the importance with which the Romans regarded this triumph.
Three separate Jewish forces combined against the Roman might. Simon Bar Giora controlled the Upper City; Johanan ben Levi of Gush Halav was encamped on the Temple Mount itself, and Elazar ben Simon and his men were in the Temple court. These three - freedom fighters, according to one account, but the leaders of gangs of thugs according to another - were engaged in a murderous internal struggle among themselves for the control of Judea. However, they all joined forces when Titus besieged the city.
After a siege lasting five months and following a number of vain attempts, the Romans finally breached the city wall and razed the city to its foundations. For Jerusalem to be conquered was nothing new. Even the wanton and wholesale slaughter of men, women, and children was not extraordinary in those days. In fact, under the Hasmonean rule, Jerusalem had been taken a number of times.
But Titus surpassed them all. He consulted with his senior officials as to what was to be done with the Temple; for all but a seventy-year interregnum between the First and Second Temples, the two Temples had stood for a thousand years. In fact, the Second Temple had been thoroughly renovated only a few decades earlier by King Herod, and now stood there in all its glory. Titus sided with those who wished to demolish it, and decided to raze it to the ground and utterly destroy it, something no other conqueror had done for over 500 years.
The aim of those seeking to destroy the Temple was clear. According to them, the Temple was the source of all Rome’s problems with the Jews. It served as a symbol of the Jews’ pride and rebellious nature, and it was the Temple that fostered their gall in being willing to oppose the might of Rome. Destroying the Temple would be akin to breaking the Jews’ backbone. All resistance would collapse, never to rise again. Just as the other nations in the area - the Ammonites, Moabites, Philistines, etc. - had lost their original identity, the Jews, too, would simply disappear as a nation and become part of the global Roman Empire.
The Temple was not used only for various ritual ceremonies, even though these took up a great deal of the time and included sacrifices: lighting candles, burning incense, singing the world-renowned song of the Levites, blowing the shofar and trumpets on various dates throughout the year, and other religious rituals. It also served a number of other, no less important, functions. The priests offered religious guidance to Jews from all over the world, the scribes and religious leaders taught the Word of God, the Sanhedrin and the Great Bet Din sat in judgment, while all matters concerning the economy and the state of the Jewish people both in the Land of Israel and throughout the rest of the world were determined there. Jews throughout the world were taxed a half-shekel a year toward the upkeep of the Temple, and these taxes were all brought to the Temple annually. Beyond all these purely functional aspects, Jews would come from all corners of the globe to the Temple to see it and to experience its sanctity. It was the nerve center of the Jewish people at the time. Should the Temple disappear, reasoned the Roman officials, the Jewish people would remain a body without a heart, and would soon wither away.
The sanctity of the Temple was so great that even the priests were not permitted free access to it. The entire priestly clan was divided into twenty-four watches, and each watch was assigned a weeklong stretch for serving in the Temple. We assume that there must have been certain priests who remained in the Temple on a permanent basis to ensure continuity, but the vast majority only served during their watch. The constant flow of people to the Temple, the institutions located in it, and all the tourists present, made a visit astounding. It was all these factors that accorded the Temple its special luster and stature among the Jewish people.
When the Temple was destroyed, there were those who refused to eat meat or drink wine, symbolic of their mourning for the Temple. There was a feeling of a religious and national crisis, and no one could foretell how or when the crisis might be resolved. For many Jews, this was the end of the world as they knew it. They were not at all sure whether the Jewish people would ever rise again.
Yet, just at that most crucial time, a group of scholars arose that effectively halted the decline. Rabbi Johanan ben Zakkai, Rabbi Eliezer ben Horkenos, and Rabbi Akiba ben Joseph were among the most prominent members of this group, which totally changed the direction of the Jewish religion. They redirected all the spiritual input that had been directed toward the Temple into prayer and good deeds. Various national, religious ceremonies that had taken place in the Temple were decentralized and transformed into local and personal ceremonies that could be held anywhere, and so on. As part of this transformation, they removed certain works from the public eye and deliberately caused some of them to be forgotten. Other works were made freely available, as part of the group’s various considerations. Among others, they sought to suppress various mystical works and concepts, which dealt with the realms of mysticism, messianism, and the apocalypse, topics which were very popular before the destruction of the Temple. We are not sure why they did so, but we do know that they were quite successful in their quest. Judaism underwent a major change in its entire orientation, but as a result, it did not disappear.
Elijah found a note from Norman when he arrived at the Institute, asking him to call as soon as possible. First, he brewed himself a cup of strong coffee. The past few days had taken their toll and he needed the caffeine to keep going. His hair had begun to fall out, probably, he felt, because of a combination of extreme tension and genuine malnutrition. Maybe what he needed, he thought, was some type of food supplement, as he compulsively pushed back his forelock and found a few more hairs in the palm of his hand. In reality, there wasn’t much for him to do at the Institute, except to await further instructions. He sent a high-priority email to Norman, expressing his concern for Mei-Ling’s life.
Elijah looked out the window and was entranced by the different birds perched in the trees. His thoughts again turned to Rabbi Akiba. Rabbi Akiba had occupied his thoughts quite frequently in the past few days, for somehow or other he sensed that if he could understand Rabbi Akiba and the varied accounts of his character, he would be able to understand what Norman was plotting, why Kim had been killed, and whether he, Elijah, was slated to be the next victim.
Rabbi Akiba’s statement, “Even if a man found a woman who is more attractive than his wife, he has the right to divorce her,” which he had used to infuriate Orna somewhat and to arouse her jealousy, seemed quite strange. Rabbi Akiba did not specify that the grounds for divorce had to be finding a better woman, or a more righteous woman, but a more attractive one! Was that the way for a religious leader to express himself? After all, in order to find a more attractive woman one must go looking for one. Is that what Rabbi Akiba meant? And how is it that no one in the Talmud disagrees with this viewpoint? Nor was this written in the 21st century. According to the School of Shammai, adultery is a valid reason for divorce, and according to the School o
f Hillel even a woman who is unable to fulfill her household duties properly may be divorced - but just because the man found a more attractive woman? Add to that the fact that the Talmud tells us that Rabbi Akiba loved his wife dearly, and that it was because of her that he became such an illustrious scholar. Indeed, the Talmud tells us how, out of love for her, Rabbi Akiba bought his wife, Rachel, a golden pendant with a model of the city of Jerusalem.
Elijah opened the window, took out the pack of cigarettes he had bought that morning, and lit one. He was not generally a smoker, but he hoped that cigarettes might help calm his frayed nerves. Of course, as soon as he took his first puff he broke into a paroxysm of coughing, but he nevertheless persisted in smoking the entire cigarette, inhaling deeply each time. He found Rabbi Akiba’s moral views to be strange and contradictory. After all, he had grown up with the words, set to a melody, that “Rabbi Akiba said: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself’ is an important principle in the Torah.” Yet only yesterday he had come across another passage, by the same Rabbi Akiba according to which:
“If two people are walking in a desert and one has a flask of water, and if they divide it up both will die, while if one drinks it he will survive and reach a settlement. Ben Petora says that it is better that both drink of it, rather than for one to witness the death of his fellow. Rabbi Akiba came and taught: “From the verse ‘Your brother shall live with you’, we learn that your life takes precedence over that of your fellow.”
Now, from a strictly legalistic point of view, Rabbi Akiba’s ruling might be correct, but what about concern for the other person? How can we relate this to “You shall love your neighbor as yourself”? Isn’t it possible that if they both drink of the water and work together they might find more water, or dig a well, or seek aid? If they do not split the water, the one with the flask will be preoccupied with ensuring that the other person does not take the water from him, and how will he have the will to take the initiative in seeking water? He will be unable to turn his back on the other person for so much as an instant. In essence, this amounts to a cold-blooded battle for survival between the two. It is strange that so esteemed a Torah scholar as Rabbi Akiba would adopt so egotistic a view. This aspect of Rabbi Akiba’s views was obviously not encapsulated in the song Elijah had been taught as a child.
