How the Rebbe saved South African Jewry

RABBI YOSSY GOLDMAN

People told us they couldn’t understand how a young couple with two small children would move to South Africa when everyone else was leaving.

But we were here on a mission. We were shluchim, emissaries of our mentor and teacher, the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, of righteous memory, who sent us here to do the work of spreading Judaism in Johannesburg. When an old boarding house in Yeoville, the major Jewish neighbourhood at the time, was purchased to serve as this country’s first Chabad House, I was invited to take the position of founding director.

At the time, apartheid was in full force. The park benches had signs stating, “whites only”. There were separate buses, separate waiting lines at the post office, separate counters in liquor stores. And there was palpable anxiety in the heart of virtually every white South African.

Many of those moving to other shores said it was on moral grounds. I suspect most were leaving out of fear. In the 70s and 80s, so many families were emigrating, our community was being decimated.

During this period of uncertainty, the Rebbe sent his rabbinical students to serve this community, giving South Africa a massive vote of confidence.

But his direct response to the questions so many South African Jews were putting to him was even more encouraging. The Rebbe was completely dismissive of the perceived need to emigrate. He said that we shouldn’t be afraid, and we should carry on with our good work. Some people were even advised to return!

In 1979, with its small school in Yeoville now bursting at the seams, the Lubavitch Foundation purchased a large tract of land in the prime northern suburbs of Johannesburg. Property prices were down, and it was an unbelievably good deal. The Torah Academy would now be able to expand.

But the lay leaders of this community, namely the South African Jewish Board of Deputies, Zionist Federation, Board of Jewish Education, Israel United Appeal and United Communal Fund all attempted to persuade us that we should abandon our “reckless empire building”.

South African Jewry was “in decline”, they stressed. There wouldn’t be enough children or sufficient financial resources in the community to support another stream of Jewish education, they argued. When we respectfully disagreed, they wrote a letter to the Rebbe, signed by the chairpersons of the board and the federation, asking him to curb his errant emissaries.

The Rebbe responded with a long letter encouraging those lay leaders to do their utmost to reverse the very decline they had referred to. He praised our strong, warmly traditional Jewish community, and pointed out that Jewish communities the world over played an important partnership role in influencing their governments to maintain positive international relations with the Jewish state.

On three separate occasions, Chabad leaders here were under pressure from a very nervous community clamouring to know if the Rebbe was still confident about our future.

One of these was in August 1985, when former President PW Botha delivered his infamous Rubicon speech in Durban. I will never forget how on each occasion, the Rebbe reiterated his position, stating the same two word Hebrew answer: “l’peleh hashaalah!” (It’s astounding that you even ask the question!)

There were sanctions, global pressure, civil violence, and eventually, on 11 February 1990, South African President FW de Klerk announced the release of the world’s most famous political prisoner, Nelson Mandela. But as historic and heady as the moment was, it created new apprehension.

On the very day of Mandela’s release from prison, Rabbi Koppel Bacher, a prominent local Chabad leader, was in New York. He stood in line to receive a dollar for charity and a blessing from the Rebbe. After giving him the dollar for tzedakah, the Rebbe called him back and gave him this message for our community. “Tell them they have nothing to fear, and that South Africa will be good for Jews until the coming of moshiach!”

But then, the burgeoning crime rate became a new cause of emigration. Not only were many of my congregants becoming victims of crime, I too was hijacked – ironically, while going to visit the shiva house of a man who had been murdered.

Rochel’s hijacking story was far more dramatic. The would-be hijacker actually pulled the trigger twice at point-blank range. Miraculously, nothing happened – twice!

Many wondered how any human could confidently tell people not to leave such a danger zone. I said that for any man sitting on the other side of the world to answer questions of such magnitude, he either had to be a prophet or a fool. Well, one thing’s for sure. This giant of a man, this extraordinary Torah sage and saintly luminary was certainly no fool.

In the end, the Rebbe’s unequivocal assurances were, indeed, vindicated. Looking back, they were, in fact, quite prophetic. And that contentious Chabad school, The Torah Academy? Today it boasts more than 600 students.

Eventually, emigration would lead to the loss of about half our population.

Apparently, the Rebbe commented that while he hadn’t been as successful as he would have liked in stemming emigration altogether, he was gratified that he had succeeded sufficiently for the community to survive with stability and vibrancy.

As I look back on 26 years of democracy, the third of Tammuz this year (25 June 2020) marks the 26th yahrtzeit of this colossal Jewish leader. Looking at our community today and imagining how different it might have been, don’t we owe him a huge hakarat hatov, an eternal debt of gratitude? I think it’s long overdue.

• Rabbi Yossy Goldman is the senior rabbi of Sydenham Shul, and the president of the South African Rabbinical Association.