It must be real! I mean, an ideology, a conception that has been nourished for centuries couldn’t just disappear. It hasn’t disappeared. There are also more recent forms, like that Holocaust denial routine. At first sight, there is nothing anti-Semitic about it, it’s more of a scientific debate. Still, some of its roots and filiations are anti-Semitic.
- Tradíciók 11756
- Beszélt nyelv 3019
- Identitás 7808
- A település leírása 2440
- Oktatás, iskola 8506
- Gazdaság 8772
- Munka 11672
- Szerelem & romantika 4929
- Szabadidő/társadalmi élet 4159
- Antiszemitizmus 4822
-
Főbb események (politikai és történelmi)
4256
- örmény népirtás 2
- Doctor's Plot (1953) 178
- Soviet invasion of Poland 31
- Siege of Leningrad 86
- The Six Day War 4
- Yom Kippur War 2
- Atatürk halála 5
- Balkán háborúk (1912-1913) 35
- Első szovjet-finn háború 37
- Csehszlovákia megszállása 1938 83
- Franciaország lerohanása 9
- Molotov-Ribbentrop paktum 65
- Varlik Vergisi (vagyonadó) 36
- Első világháború (1914-1918) 216
- Spanyolnátha (1918-1920) 14
- Latvian War of Independence (1918-1920) 4
- Nagy gazdasági világválság (1929-1933) 20
- Hitler hatalmon (1933) 127
- 151 Kórház 1
- Thesszaloniki tűzvész (1917) 9
- Görög polgárháború (1946-49) 12
- Thesszaloniki Nemzetközi Vásár 5
- Bukovina Romániához csatolása (1918) 7
- Észak-Bukovina csatolása a Szovjetunióhoz (1940) 19
- Lengyelország német megszállása (1939) 94
- Kisinyevi pogrom (1903) 7
- Besszarábia romániai annexiója (1918) 25
- A magyar uralom visszatérése Erdélybe (1940-1944) 43
- Besszarábia szovjet megszállása (1940) 59
- Második bécsi diktátum 27
- Észt függetlenségi háború 3
- Varsói felkelés 2
- A balti államok szovjet megszállása (1940) 147
- Osztrák lovagi háború (1934) 9
- Anschluss (1938) 71
- A Habsburg birodalom összeomlása 3
- Dollfuß-rendszer 3
- Kivándorlás Bécsbe a második világháború előtt 36
- Kolkhoz 131
- KuK - Königlich und Kaiserlich 40
- Bányászjárás 1
- A háború utáni szövetséges megszállás 7
- Waldheim ügy 5
- Trianoni békeszerződés 12
- NEP 56
- Orosz forradalom 351
- Ukrán éhínség (Holodomor) 199
- A Nagy tisztogatás 283
- Peresztrojka 233
- 1941. június 22. 468
- Molotov rádióbeszéde 115
- Győzelem napja 147
- Sztálin halála 365
- Hruscsov beszéde a 20. kongresszuson 148
- KGB 62
- NKVD 153
- Magyarország német megszállása (1944. március 18-19.) 45
- Józef Pilsudski (1935-ig) 33
- 1956-os forradalom 84
- Prágai Tavasz (1968) 73
- 1989-es rendszerváltás 174
- Gomulka kampány (1968) 81
-
Holokauszt
9685
- Holokauszt (általánosságban) 2789
- Koncentrációs tábor / munkatábor 1235
- Tömeges lövöldözési műveletek 337
- Gettó 1183
- Halál / megsemmisítő tábor 647
- Deportálás 1063
- Kényszermunka 791
- Repülés 1410
- Rejtőzködés 594
- Ellenállás 121
- 1941-es evakuálások 866
- Novemberpogrom / Kristályéjszaka 34
- Eleutherias tér 10
- Kasztner csoport 1
- Jászvásári pogrom és a halálvonat 21
- Sammelwohnungen 9
- Strohmann rendszer 11
- Struma hajó 17
- Élet a megszállás alatt 803
- Csillagos ház 72
- Védett ház 15
- Nyilaskeresztesek ("nyilasok") 42
- Dunába lőtt zsidók 6
- Kindertranszport 26
- Schutzpass / hamis papírok 95
- Varsói gettófelkelés (1943) 24
- Varsói felkelés (1944) 23
- Segítők 521
- Igazságos nemzsidók 269
- Hazatérés 1090
- Holokauszt-kárpótlás 112
- Visszatérítés 109
- Vagyon (vagyonvesztés) 595
- Szerettek elvesztése 1724
- Trauma 1029
- Beszélgetés a történtekről 1807
- Felszabadulás 558
- Katonaság 3322
- Politika 2640
-
Kommunizmus
4468
- Élet a Szovjetunióban/kommunizmus alatt (általánosságban) 2592
- Antikommunista ellenállás általában 63
- Államosítás a kommunizmus alatt 221
- Illegális kommunista mozgalmak 98
- Szisztematikus rombolások a kommunizmus alatt 45
- Kommunista ünnepek 311
- A kommunista uralommal kapcsolatos érzések 930
- Kollektivizáció 94
- Az állami rendőrséggel kapcsolatos tapasztalatok 349
- Börtön/kényszermunka a kommunista/szocialista uralom alatt 449
- Az emberi és állampolgári jogok hiánya vagy megsértése 483
- Élet a rendszerváltás után (1989) 493
- Izrael / Palesztina 2190
- Cionizmus 847
- Zsidó szervezetek 1200
Displaying 20101 - 20130 of 50826 results
Miklos Kallos
As for the anti-Semitism of the people at large, I couldn’t asses it, but it is real too. There were some sociological studies that attempted to determine the extent of this anti-Semitism: people were asked if they would like to have a Jew as a neighbor, if they would like their son to marry a Jewish girl and so on and so forth…
This alleged anti-Semitism is no fairy-tale – it is real, even now. Of course, there aren’t any anti-Semitic laws. On the contrary, there are laws that condemn xenophobia and anti-Semitism. So one might claim that there is no State anti-Semitism.
But I look at the legionary magazines and books that are published and I look at the legionary organizations that activate – all despite a legislation that actually forbids them. And they are all tolerated by the State. This is also a kind of State anti-Semitism.
Indirect though it may be, it is still an official anti-Semitic statement. Not to mention the rhetorical anti-Semitism. There are many books, newspaper articles, interviews and television shows which express anti-Semitic positions. I don’t think I need to give names – you know who I’m talking about.
But I look at the legionary magazines and books that are published and I look at the legionary organizations that activate – all despite a legislation that actually forbids them. And they are all tolerated by the State. This is also a kind of State anti-Semitism.
Indirect though it may be, it is still an official anti-Semitic statement. Not to mention the rhetorical anti-Semitism. There are many books, newspaper articles, interviews and television shows which express anti-Semitic positions. I don’t think I need to give names – you know who I’m talking about.
During the revolution of 1989 [28], I looked through the window at the masses who were marching and burning the photos of Ceausescu. I got out in the streets, I went to see them, and I listened to Mrs. Cornea right here on Victoriei Square, on the first day of the revolution. [Editor’s note: Mr. Kallos is talking about the poet Doina Cornea. She was condemned to house arrest in the communist period. After the revolution of December 1989, she distinguished herself through extensive civic activities. She still lives today.]
Of course, I was glad. I mean, I was glad about that specific situation, glad because we had got rid of Ceausescu and his regime; I didn’t realize the entire system had collapsed. I gradually figured out what the big picture was; I became aware that, on the world scene, the Berlin Wall had disappeared, the Soviet Union had fallen apart, and so on and so forth. Getting rid of Ceausescu’s regime was a progress. Then we got used to the democratic life, so to speak.
Of course, I was glad. I mean, I was glad about that specific situation, glad because we had got rid of Ceausescu and his regime; I didn’t realize the entire system had collapsed. I gradually figured out what the big picture was; I became aware that, on the world scene, the Berlin Wall had disappeared, the Soviet Union had fallen apart, and so on and so forth. Getting rid of Ceausescu’s regime was a progress. Then we got used to the democratic life, so to speak.
As years went by, more and more ethnic groups, including the Jews, were left aside. Here’s an example from my personal experience. I’m not saying that it bothered me – because I was never a social climber – but it is symptomatic. For many years I was an assistant dean at the Babes-Bolyai University in Cluj and I worked with various professors.
I was never more than an assistant dean. I couldn’t become a dean, although I was highly esteemed from a professional and scientific point of view. And this is how things usually went on a national scale. If one was a Jew, the best thing one could hope to become was a deputy; never a boss. There must have been some who didn’t like it. But I had no problem with this. I usually didn’t fancy being a boss.
I was never more than an assistant dean. I couldn’t become a dean, although I was highly esteemed from a professional and scientific point of view. And this is how things usually went on a national scale. If one was a Jew, the best thing one could hope to become was a deputy; never a boss. There must have been some who didn’t like it. But I had no problem with this. I usually didn’t fancy being a boss.
During the communist regime, anti-Semitism was not an issue. But it depends on how one looked at it. Officially, it was not an issue; things were fine from the official point of view. Officially, the ethnic problem had ceased to exist; it had been fully ‘solved.’ Nationalism became State policy especially after Ceausescu came to power.
As far as Jews were concerned, there was a time after the war when they felt drawn to the communist movement. They believed in the solutions promised by the communist ideology: all people would be brothers and all the other things. After the fascist period, this ideal caught the attention of a number of Jews and made them become affiliated with the communist movement.
In its turn, the newly-installed communist power needed – both for its repression mechanism and for its political apparatus – people who had been neither Legionaries [26], nor members of the Arrow Cross Party [27]. By definition, Jews had had no involvement in any of those two, so they were considered sort of trustworthy for a while.
As the regime strengthened its foundations, Jews began to be eliminated. One mustn’t forget that the Romanian Communist Party initially had a fairly large number of Hungarians and Jews. But the idea was that the Party needed to be represented mainly by Romanians. So a large-scale policy was initiated in order to attract the Romanian proletariat and peasantry to join the Party.
Gradually, as new members were recruited, the Jews were replaced from certain positions which they held in the early post-war years. Moreover, the communist regime had this policy of proportionality: the number of titles or offices held by the members of an ethnic group – Hungarians, Jews or others – had to be in observance with the proportion of that group in the total population.
As far as Jews were concerned, there was a time after the war when they felt drawn to the communist movement. They believed in the solutions promised by the communist ideology: all people would be brothers and all the other things. After the fascist period, this ideal caught the attention of a number of Jews and made them become affiliated with the communist movement.
In its turn, the newly-installed communist power needed – both for its repression mechanism and for its political apparatus – people who had been neither Legionaries [26], nor members of the Arrow Cross Party [27]. By definition, Jews had had no involvement in any of those two, so they were considered sort of trustworthy for a while.
As the regime strengthened its foundations, Jews began to be eliminated. One mustn’t forget that the Romanian Communist Party initially had a fairly large number of Hungarians and Jews. But the idea was that the Party needed to be represented mainly by Romanians. So a large-scale policy was initiated in order to attract the Romanian proletariat and peasantry to join the Party.
Gradually, as new members were recruited, the Jews were replaced from certain positions which they held in the early post-war years. Moreover, the communist regime had this policy of proportionality: the number of titles or offices held by the members of an ethnic group – Hungarians, Jews or others – had to be in observance with the proportion of that group in the total population.
I didn’t look at the Hungarian revolution of 1956 [24] with the eyes of a Hungarian. It is true that I activated in the field of the Hungarian culture, as I was the editor-in-chief of the Hungarian-speaking magazine of the Writers’ Union in Cluj; the magazine was called ‘Utunk’ [‘Our Way’]. Apart from my academic career, I always worked in the media too. The staff of this magazine ‘enjoyed a special attention’ from the party leaders; they all had their eyes on us, lest the Hungarian locals should cause them any troubles. Party hotshots came to visit us on an almost daily basis; I met people like Leonte Rautu or Miron Constantinescu several times, because I had that position at the magazine. Meetings were held with the Hungarian writers – those were agitated times.
Back then, my mind didn’t let me see what was happening in Hungary as a revolution. On the one hand, I was glad there was an uprising against the regime of Rakosi [25], which was at least as oppressive as Ceausescu’s regime would become later; on the other hand, I couldn’t and wouldn’t realize that the system per se was endangered.
After all, none of the slogans of that revolution urged to rid ourselves of Socialism. People were calling for Socialism with a human face. There was no question about it. People were fighting against terror, but didn’t question the system itself. All they wanted was the system to become better, more democratic, more humanized.
Back then, my mind didn’t let me see what was happening in Hungary as a revolution. On the one hand, I was glad there was an uprising against the regime of Rakosi [25], which was at least as oppressive as Ceausescu’s regime would become later; on the other hand, I couldn’t and wouldn’t realize that the system per se was endangered.
After all, none of the slogans of that revolution urged to rid ourselves of Socialism. People were calling for Socialism with a human face. There was no question about it. People were fighting against terror, but didn’t question the system itself. All they wanted was the system to become better, more democratic, more humanized.
I never insisted that my sons marry Jewish women. There’s no question about it. First of all, even if I had wanted that, it would have been pretty difficult. There weren’t too many Jewish young women of their age they could choose from. But they didn’t have to anyway.
My other son, Gyorgy, was born in 1955. He graduated from the Polytechnic in Cluj and he was appointed to work in the Bihor County. So he got to Oradea, where I had been born and I had lived. He worked for several enterprises in the field of agriculture, as he was specialized in techniques of manufacturing agricultural machinery. Then he re-specialized in computer science. He activated in the field of computers. He is currently what they call a businessman.
Every holiday had its own ritual. The ritual for Yom Kippur involves the day before Yom Kippur, for the entire holiday is spent in the synagogue and there is no way one could observe some ritual at home. So before Yom Kippur, the custom was to have a kapores; at first sight, this ritual looks rather heathen.
We would buy some white chickens – roosters and small chickens – and rotate them above our head in the morning, saying a prayer. The prayer was supposed to make all our sins fall upon that bird. This was the kapores. Then the bird was taken to the small abattoir, where it was slaughtered.
We would eat a soup made of its meat. Before nightfall, when we had to go to the synagogue, we would eat a lot, so that it would last us for an entire day of fasting; and this was when the kapores was consumed.
We would buy some white chickens – roosters and small chickens – and rotate them above our head in the morning, saying a prayer. The prayer was supposed to make all our sins fall upon that bird. This was the kapores. Then the bird was taken to the small abattoir, where it was slaughtered.
We would eat a soup made of its meat. Before nightfall, when we had to go to the synagogue, we would eat a lot, so that it would last us for an entire day of fasting; and this was when the kapores was consumed.
The following day, on Saturday, we would attend the religious service and have breakfast. After that, my father had to go back to the synagogue, because the Neologs had a special ritual: first, there was an early morning service, like in any Orthodox synagogue, attended by a few dozens of religious people. Then, at ten or eleven o’clock – I can’t remember exactly – there was a second service, shorter, but more imposing – they played the organ and things like that.
My father was an employee there and had some duties: to distribute the prayer books, to organize the Torah calls etc. I usually accompanied him. We would come back home at twelve or twelve and a half. We would have lunch, then my father always went to bed for an hour or two. In the afternoon, there was the synagogue again, and this is how things went.
My father was an employee there and had some duties: to distribute the prayer books, to organize the Torah calls etc. I usually accompanied him. We would come back home at twelve or twelve and a half. We would have lunch, then my father always went to bed for an hour or two. In the afternoon, there was the synagogue again, and this is how things went.
After the meal on Friday night, my father would take me for a half an hour or one hour to see the Sabbath ritual of some rabbis. Both my parents were the followers of some Hasidic rabbis. Each of them had his own synagogue, his own parishioners, even his own tunes and religious songs. After that, we would return home and go to bed.
On Friday at noon, we usually had goose liver with goose cracklings. On Friday evening – so on Sabbath – the dinner was gelatinous fish and broth with meat in it. At table, we would sing some songs in Hebrew – they were less religious songs, specially designed for the Sabbath, called Zemirot. There are three or four such songs to be sung on Friday night and on Saturday afternoon – they’re all from the prayer book.
My father and I would dress up and go to the synagogue on Friday night. My mother stayed at home and lit the Sabbath candle. The woman puts on a veil or a white shawl, makes some movements over the candle in order to inspire the spirit of the Sabbath, says a blessing and adds some biblical phrases.
When my father and I came back from the synagogue, we would have dinner. The prayer was said by men at the synagogue. At home, we had some stanzas, so to speak, and especially some songs that my father and I used to sing.
Women had their own prayer; there used to be a prayer book for women in Hebrew and Yiddish. On Saturday afternoon, my mother would read a few lines from this book. But the only separate prayer a woman had was the one she was supposed to say on Friday evening, when lighting the Sabbath candle. My father and I said the prayers in Hebrew.
When my father and I came back from the synagogue, we would have dinner. The prayer was said by men at the synagogue. At home, we had some stanzas, so to speak, and especially some songs that my father and I used to sing.
Women had their own prayer; there used to be a prayer book for women in Hebrew and Yiddish. On Saturday afternoon, my mother would read a few lines from this book. But the only separate prayer a woman had was the one she was supposed to say on Friday evening, when lighting the Sabbath candle. My father and I said the prayers in Hebrew.
Let’s take the Sabbath, for instance, the most frequent holiday. Preparations for the Sabbath would begin on Friday. A goose was usually slaughtered for the Saturday meal. My mother did all the required preparations for the Sabbath dinner.
We would buy a milk loaf and some wine, for there was supposed to be a prayer and a blessing using a glass of wine. Milk loaf was baked at home very rarely; I remember my mother did make a large one a couple of times, but not for the Sabbath; it was for the high holidays, when people baked a sweeter milk loaf, with raisins, that was called barkhes.
Before we had our own bathroom, we would go to the ritual bath every Friday. After our place was added a bathroom, we gave up this habit, but not completely, for the ritual bath was recommended – especially for women, and even if they had a bathroom at home. My father and I would still go to the ritual bath twice a month or so. Women had to go at certain times, as well as after their period. They would immerse themselves three times and get out. It was a sort of sacred water.
We would buy a milk loaf and some wine, for there was supposed to be a prayer and a blessing using a glass of wine. Milk loaf was baked at home very rarely; I remember my mother did make a large one a couple of times, but not for the Sabbath; it was for the high holidays, when people baked a sweeter milk loaf, with raisins, that was called barkhes.
Before we had our own bathroom, we would go to the ritual bath every Friday. After our place was added a bathroom, we gave up this habit, but not completely, for the ritual bath was recommended – especially for women, and even if they had a bathroom at home. My father and I would still go to the ritual bath twice a month or so. Women had to go at certain times, as well as after their period. They would immerse themselves three times and get out. It was a sort of sacred water.
My mother wore a wig, like all religious Jewish women did. On holidays, my mother and I would go to the Orthodox synagogue, not to the Neolog one. But we did the ritual slaughtering at the Orthodox’ place. So we were Orthodox from the religious point of view. I always wore a cap or a hat – I always kept my head covered. We observed all the traditions.
In the case of a death, there was the washing of the deceased, the dressing of the body, the laying in the coffin, the organizing of the funeral, the coordination of the cantor, of the rabbi, the liaison with the family – my father had to take care of all these things. He was also a sort of cashier – there were all sorts of sums that had to be collected by the Community. However, he did not cash the membership fees; someone else did that.
The Orthodox kept a strictly kosher diet. My father was what they called a shammash. In Hebrew, shammash literally means servant. Each community had a shammash, a servant, who conducted the cultic life. His responsibilities included watching over the divine service at the synagogue and making sure that everyone had their prayer book and their tallit, that ritual garment.
He was the one who chose and invited the parishioners to read the Torah. So he took care of the synagogue during the religious service. He was also the one who organized all the ritual events: weddings and funerals, with all their adjacent rituals, were his responsibility too.
He was the one who chose and invited the parishioners to read the Torah. So he took care of the synagogue during the religious service. He was also the one who organized all the ritual events: weddings and funerals, with all their adjacent rituals, were his responsibility too.
Another difference was that Neologs usually held their prayers in the local language. Until the time of the Hungarian occupation, prayers in Oradea or in Cluj were held in Romanian; then they were held in Hungarian. In contrast, the Orthodox held their prayers in Yiddish. (…) Getting closer to the Neolog masses by using a language that was accessible to them was undoubtedly an advantage. The bad part was that a series of precepts and rules were set aside and forgotten.
As for the customs, we had the usual customs for a religious Jewish family. Although my father worked for the Neolog Community, we were Orthodox in private.
Now you may ask me why an Orthodox was working for the Neologs. Well, all the employees of the Neologs who were responsible for the ritual – the shochetim who slaughtered the animals, my father and others who worked in the religious field – were Orthodox, for these people were supposed to really know their job. The Neologs weren’t too familiar with these things.
Now you may ask me why an Orthodox was working for the Neologs. Well, all the employees of the Neologs who were responsible for the ritual – the shochetim who slaughtered the animals, my father and others who worked in the religious field – were Orthodox, for these people were supposed to really know their job. The Neologs weren’t too familiar with these things.
We spoke Hungarian at home. Sometimes, my parents used Yiddish with each other. Yiddish is, in fact, a variant of the medieval German, sprinkled with Hebrew words. I got the hang of it myself; I can still speak it – not very well, but I can still speak it. Anyway, we usually used Hungarian in our family.
Before the high holidays, the Jewish custom is to visit the tombs of the departed. On this occasion, a prayer is recited – it’s called Kaddish. People didn’t know the prayer very well and my father was always around those days. They could ask for his help and my father would recite the Kaddish and get something in return.
So we didn’t lack anything from the material point of view. We lived the life of the middle class, an expression that is widely used today: we weren’t rich, but we weren’t poor either. We had everything we needed when it came to food, clothing, electricity, running water and heating; everything we needed for a decent life.
So we didn’t lack anything from the material point of view. We lived the life of the middle class, an expression that is widely used today: we weren’t rich, but we weren’t poor either. We had everything we needed when it came to food, clothing, electricity, running water and heating; everything we needed for a decent life.
We didn’t lack anything because, thanks to my father’s office, he always received, apart from his salary, donations from the Community members for various services:
whenever he organized a wedding, he would get something; at a funeral, he would get something too. For the Neologs didn’t know the ritual very well. ‘The Neologs were the members of the Jewish population who were more assimilated than all the others. Many didn’t attend the synagogue anymore; they only went there for the great holidays and when the Maskir, the commemoration of the dead, was celebrated.
whenever he organized a wedding, he would get something; at a funeral, he would get something too. For the Neologs didn’t know the ritual very well. ‘The Neologs were the members of the Jewish population who were more assimilated than all the others. Many didn’t attend the synagogue anymore; they only went there for the great holidays and when the Maskir, the commemoration of the dead, was celebrated.
We lived in a modest place: two rooms, a kitchen, a bathroom and a pantry. We didn’t have a garden and didn’t keep animals. There were only three of us, so we did rather well, we didn’t have too many problems.
They were Hungarian and had a boy who was two or three years younger than me. They were the housekeepers. Again, this is a detail that is less known: the Jewish households had to employ a Christian; every Saturday, he or she would light the candles, start the fire and do all the necessary things that Jews were forbidden to do on that particular day.
This family, apart from taking care of the house, did these things too: on every Friday evening, they would enter each apartment and put the lights out; on every Saturday, they would start the fire and so on and so forth.
This family, apart from taking care of the house, did these things too: on every Friday evening, they would enter each apartment and put the lights out; on every Saturday, they would start the fire and so on and so forth.
We lived in a Community house. The Community had three buildings for the use of its employees. One of them was a house of three or four rooms that was inhabited by Chief Rabbi Vajda Istvan. Before him, the office was held by an extremely famous rabbi, Dr. Lipot Kecskemeti [11], who died in 1936; the Jewish Neolog High School was named after him. For several years after his death, the Community didn’t have a rabbi. Then this Vajda Istvan was elected chief rabbi. That house is still there, on Cuza Voda Street.
There were two other houses with several apartments for those who worked in the religious field – the shochetim, the chief cantor etc. We lived in one of them. ‘There was also a Christian family in the courtyard where Community employees lived.
There were two other houses with several apartments for those who worked in the religious field – the shochetim, the chief cantor etc. We lived in one of them. ‘There was also a Christian family in the courtyard where Community employees lived.
There used to be a saying back then; whatever happened in no matter what field, the question was: is this good for the Jews or is this bad for the Jews? This was our only way to talk about politics. Of course, there were some events that affected us to a certain extent – for instance, the coming to power of the Goga-Cuza anti-Semitic government [10], in 1936 or 1937, brought about a number of anti-Semitic laws. This caused worries to the Jewish collectivity. And when this cabinet fell, there was great joy. From this point of view, we did talk politics. But, for the rest, we weren’t into politics at all.
Romania
Beside these schools, there were several notable newspapers in Hungarian which were owned by Jews, like ‘Naplo’ [‘Journal’ in Hungarian]; this was an ordinary newspaper, not a Jewish one, only it was owned by a Jew. The Orthodox had a weekly of their own; it was in Hungarian and it was called ‘Nepunk’ [‘Our People’].
I would read it every Friday. It addressed the issues of the internal life of the communities, as well as political issues, like the situation of the Jews in various countries. It also contained Jewish and Hasidic stories, literature, poetry and all. ‘Every issue featured accounts, notes and short stories about what had happened in Germany, about the pogroms conducted mostly after the Crystal Night [9] in 1938.
We knew what was going on there. But we didn’t feel threatened in any way here.
I would read it every Friday. It addressed the issues of the internal life of the communities, as well as political issues, like the situation of the Jews in various countries. It also contained Jewish and Hasidic stories, literature, poetry and all. ‘Every issue featured accounts, notes and short stories about what had happened in Germany, about the pogroms conducted mostly after the Crystal Night [9] in 1938.
We knew what was going on there. But we didn’t feel threatened in any way here.
Only a few Hasidic rabbis had a yeshivah. The communities didn’t really have such schools. But since the Hasidim belonged to the Orthodoxy, and since some Hasidic rabbis led these yeshivot, it was said that the Orthodox had yeshivot. But note that there never was a yeshivah of the Orthodox Community proper.
These schools were formed around some learned men. Not every Hasidic rabbi had a yeshivah – there were only a few of them who had one. But the two or three yeshivot in Oradea were not very famous. The ones in Marghita or Valea lui Mihai or Dej, for instance, were more famous as institutions of religious education than the ones in our town.
A man attended such a school and studied with renowned rabbis in order to become a rabbi himself. After finishing the yeshivah, he would get a graduation certificate from a group of rabbis. Then he would have to go through what is now called post-graduate studies:
spending time next to a rabbi who finally issued an authorization stating his qualifications. In the end, he had to gather several letters of recommendation and validation from the existing rabbis. This process had nothing to do with the state education.
These schools were formed around some learned men. Not every Hasidic rabbi had a yeshivah – there were only a few of them who had one. But the two or three yeshivot in Oradea were not very famous. The ones in Marghita or Valea lui Mihai or Dej, for instance, were more famous as institutions of religious education than the ones in our town.
A man attended such a school and studied with renowned rabbis in order to become a rabbi himself. After finishing the yeshivah, he would get a graduation certificate from a group of rabbis. Then he would have to go through what is now called post-graduate studies:
spending time next to a rabbi who finally issued an authorization stating his qualifications. In the end, he had to gather several letters of recommendation and validation from the existing rabbis. This process had nothing to do with the state education.
In the late years, after 1940, under the Hungarian occupation [during the Hungarian era (1940-1944)] [7], our Neolog high school turned into a co-educational high school – there were girls in the boys’ classes too. Because of some anti-Jewish laws [in Hungary] [8], a number of Jewish pupils were banned from various schools, so some Jewish girls gained access to Jewish education.
Jewish girls used to attend non-Jewish schools and only came to our school for the religion classes, which were provided for a fee. My father was the one who collected this fee.
Jewish girls used to attend non-Jewish schools and only came to our school for the religion classes, which were provided for a fee. My father was the one who collected this fee.