The Beautiful Postcards Theodor Herzl Sent to His Daughter

Tracing Herzl’s journey to the Land of Israel through the touching postcards he sent to his young daughter along the way

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Herzl and his children

On October 12th, 1898, the visionary of the State, Binyamin Ze’ev (Theodor) Herzl, embarked on a journey to the Land of Israel in order to advance his great dream- a Jewish state for the Jewish People.

Throughout his journey, Herzl sent regular postcards and letters to his family. The one-of-a-kind collection of correspondence is housed at the National Library of Israel. The collection features brief greetings, written on postcards, sent to his eight-year-old daughter Paulina, from various stops along the journey.

The inscriptions on each of the postcards are brief, containing one or two sentences in Herzl’s handwriting. But the poignant words shed light on Herzl’s great love for his daughter and his desire to update her on the progress of his trip and reassure her that everything was fine.

The first postcard in the series was sent from Constantinople, soon to become Istanbul. The postcard is dated October 15th, 1898:

“Tender kisses to my delicate daughter Paulina from her faithful Papa”הרצל

Herzl had timed his journey to the Holy Land to coincide with a visit by the German Emperor, Kaiser Wilhelm II. The Zionist visionary hoped to discuss the particulars of a future Jewish homeland with the Kaiser. On the same day on which he sent the above postcard, Herzl wrote the following in his personal journal:

I have discussed the conditions we should put forth with Bodenheimer [a member of the delegation which accompanied Herzl]. The border of the region: from the river of Egypt to the Euphrates. To stipulate a transitional period with independent institutions. A Jewish governor for the transitional period. When the (Jewish) population in a certain area reaches two-thirds of the total population, the administration, from a political standpoint, will become a Jewish administration.”

Five days later, on October 20th, Herzl wrote to his daughter from Smyrna, the Turkish port city of Izmir:

“Many tender kisses from Asia Minor to my good daughter Paulina, from her faithful Papa”

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Herzl, already in Athens the very next day, wrote:

“Tender kisses from Greece to my delicate daughter Paulina from her faithful Papa”

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The journey stretched on, and on October 29th, reached its climax – the meeting with Kaiser Wilhelm II at Mikveh Yisrael in Jerusalem. Herzl hoped that, with his help, he might receive a special charter for the establishment of a Jewish state from the Turkish Sultan. A cameraman from Herzl’s delegation was supposed to capture the historic moment, but the amateur photographer missed the photo-op to Herzl’s great disappointment…

The next day Herzl wrote again to Paulina, this time in a postcard celebrating his meeting with the Kaiser:

“To my good Paulina, tender kisses are sent to you from your faithful Papa in Jerusalem”

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The next day, Herzl sent yet another postcard, this time with a picture of Hebron, on which he wrote:

“Kisses from your faithful Papa

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If I remember you in the future, Jerusalem, not with pleasure will I remember you,” Herzl wrote in his journal on October 31st, “The moldy residues of two thousand years of cruelty, intolerance, and filth lie in the stinking streets. If we ever get Jerusalem, and if it is within my ability, I will clean it first. I shall remove everything that is not sacred, I shall set up housing for laborers outside of the city, I shalI empty out the nests of filth, destroy them, burn those ruins which are not  sacred, and the bazaars I shall move to another place. Preserving the old building style as much as possible, I will erect a modern, convenient, clean and functioning city around the holy sites.

 

Thanks to Dr. Gil Weissblei of the Archives Department for his assistance in the research and preparation of this article.

 

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A Memory of the Last Jews of Yemen

In the 1980s, photographer, painter and poet Myriam Tangi took three separate trips to Yemen in the hopes of photographing the last Jews living in the country.

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Three young Jewish boys studying, Al Hajar, Haydan, Yemen, 1983. In the middle is Lewi Faez, who was around 6 years old at the time. He arrived in Israel in 1992 at the age of 16, with his 14 year-old wife and an infant. Photo by Myriam Tangi.

According to legend, Jewish history in Yemen dates back to the time of King Solomon and the request of the Queen of Sheba to see Hebrew craftsmen settle in her country. Indeed, some historians identify Sheba with the ancient Kingdom of Saba in the southern Arabian Peninsula. More recently, in 1949-50, about 49,000 Yemeni Jews were brought to the nascent State of Israel on secret flights during Operation Magic Carpet. As of 2017, it was believed that there remain approximately 50 Jews in the entirety of the country with most of them living in in a compound adjacent to the American Embassy in Sana’a, Yemen’s largest city and its capital.

As non-Muslims living in an Arabic country, the Jews of Yemen, one of the most ancient Jewish communities in the diaspora, were considered dhimmi, which literally means, “protected class.” As dhimmi, Jews had certain rights but also had to contend with a number of restrictions, including limits on their freedom of movement – For example, Jews were only permitted to travel within Yemen and could not venture beyond the borders of the country.

Visits to these regions by foreigners were extremely rare, meaning the villagers were just as curious as the tourists. The boy with the book in the foreground, who refused to stop reading for the sake of the picture, was an exception. Al-Hajar, near Haydan, Yemen, 1983, photo by Myriam Tangi.
Visits to these regions by foreigners were extremely rare, meaning the villagers were just as curious as the tourists. The boy with the book in the foreground, who refused to stop reading for the sake of the picture, was an exception. Al-Hajar, near Haydan, Yemen, 1983, photo by Myriam Tangi

The Jews of Yemen were also forbidden from carrying the djambiha, a dagger-like sword carried by all Yemenite Muslim men around the waist. This restriction clearly indicated who among the men was not Muslim. Jews were restricted to certain crafts: jewelry making, leather working, shoe repair and metal works. Jewish women were permitted to weave baskets to sell at market.

Yemenite Jews were not allowed to own land and were under the protection of the sheikh of the village or the city where they lived. This meant that the sheikh was responsible for their safety and was obligated by law to protect them. The relationship between the community and the sheikh was often warm and sometimes even friendly.

A Jewish woman working. Yemen, 1986, photo by Myriam Tangi.
A Jewish woman working. Yemen, 1986, photo by Myriam Tangi
Jewish men in Al-Hajar, Haydan, Yemen, 1984, photo by Myriam Tangi.
Jewish men in Al-Hajar, Haydan, Yemen, 1984, photo by Myriam Tangi

In the 1980s, we set out on a journey to photograph the last few remaining Yemenite Jewish communities that were scattered throughout the country. There were at the time, approximately 300 to 400 Jews left in Yemen and only a few foreigners had travelled through this remote country at the tip of the Arabian Peninsula.

We made our way to different villages across the country including Beit Sinan in the Arhab district, about an hour north of Sana’a, the capital. The villages closer to Sana’a had stricter rules for code of dress. The Jewish women in the far off villages did not wear full niqabs, which covered the whole body, like the Muslim women did. Instead, they wore veils that covered only their heads. But as we drew nearer to the capital, the veils grew larger and women were expected to cover more. Muslims could enter Jewish homes at any moment, except on Shabbat.

Beit Sinan, Arhab, Yemen, 1983, photo by Myriam Tangi.
Beit Sinan, Arhab, Yemen, 1983, photo by Myriam Tangi
Al Hajar, Haydan, Yemen, 1983, Myriam Tangi.
Al Hajar, Haydan, Yemen, 1983, Myriam Tangi

We also travelled in a big truck through the steep roads of the mountainous regions to reach yet un-explored villages such as Al-Hajar, near Haydan and west of Sa’dah, a large city located in northern Yemen. The village of Wadi Amla was another destination; both are not far from the border of Saudi Arabia.

We were traveling as tourists. We made no mention of our Jewish identities for our own safety and for the safety of the local Jews. We were allowed to visit with the Jewish communities as we said we were looking to buy jewelry – a trade held by the local Jews. We also mentioned that we were vegetarians which gave us an opportunity to join a Jewish family for a meal. Not all of these small and dispersed Jewish communities had their own synagogues. We understood from our interactions with a particular community that one family owned a Torah scroll and that other Jews would gather in this family’s home for prayer services, as it was forbidden to visit the local synagogue.

Beit Sinan, Arhab, Yemen, 1986. In the mufredj (living room) the mori (teacher) prepares tzitziyot (ritual tassles) while the children study and a mother feeds her infant. The child on the right is supervising the others. In the foreground we see a hookah. A cooking pot can be seen in the middle of the room, meals are eaten while sitting around the pot on the floor. Photo by Myriam Tangi.
Beit Sinan, Arhab, Yemen, 1986. In the mufredj (living room) the mori (teacher) prepares tzitziyot (ritual tassels) while the children study and a mother feeds her infant. The child on the right is supervising the others. In the foreground we see a hookah. A cooking pot can be seen in the middle of the room, meals are eaten while sitting around the pot on the floor. Photo by Myriam Tangi
A Jewish girl (left) and a Muslim girl (right), Al Hajar, Haydan, Yemen, 1983, photo by Myriam Tangi.
A Jewish girl (left) and a Muslim girl (right), Al Hajar, Haydan, Yemen, 1983, photo by Myriam Tangi

These photos are a testament to the peaceful lives led by the Jews of Yemen at that time. The children would spend their days studying with their Mori, a teacher chosen by the community, or with their father who would multitask in maintaining control over the reading and studying while working. Since there was usually only one copy to read from, the local children often developed the ability to read a book from any angle.

A Jewish girl (left) and a Muslim girl (right), Al Hajar, Haydan, Yemen, 1983, photo by Myriam Tangi.
A Jewish girl (left) and a Muslim girl (right), Al Hajar, Haydan, Yemen, 1983, photo by Myriam Tangi
Yemen, 1983, photo by Myriam Tangi.
Yemen, 1983, photo by Myriam Tangi

 

While the situation in Yemen has changed, just a few decades ago this same country, which was so detached from the modern, Western way of life, gave us the impression of traveling back to biblical times, and allowed us to experience a different rhythm of life, typified by laid-back afternoons spent chewing Khat leaves.

This series of photographs has been recognized by the IPA (International Photography Awards) organization.

This post was written as part of Gesher L’Europa, the NLI’s initiative to connect with Europe and make our collections available to diverse audiences in Europe and beyond.

 

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A Personal Story of Migration as Told in a 1000-Year-Old Jewish-Afghan Letter

Broken promises, a lack of piety and a wife left behind – What forced a young Jew to leave his home and family in 11th-century Afghanistan?

The first page of the 11th-century letter, written in Judeo-Persian, from "Yair" to Abu al-Hasan Siman-Tov, the National Library Collections.

The first page of the 11th-century letter, written in Judeo-Persian, from "Yair" to Abu al-Hasan Siman-Tov, the National Library collections.

What has become known as the Afghan Genizah is a collection of thousands of manuscript fragments originating in medieval Afghanistan. A large portion of these texts were written in Afghan Jewish communities that we previously knew almost nothing about. In recent years, the National Library of Israel has been able to acquire nearly 300 pages of material from the collection. The study of these documents has shed a great deal of light on the lives of Jews living in Afghanistan nearly a thousand years ago – how they lived, worked, prayed and communicated, as well as how they interacted with their Muslim neighbors.

In the early 13th-century, these same Jewish communities were decimated by Genghis Khan’s Mongol hordes, along with the entire surrounding region of Khorasan. The fact that these documents were able to survive the devastation is likely a matter of luck more than anything else. The collection preserved at the National Library includes personal letters and business records, as well as legal, administrative and literary papers. The oldest were written in the 11th-century and the newest date to the early 13th-century.

One of the most interesting items in the trove is a letter written by a young Jewish man by the name of Yair, who had run into some trouble: Failed business ventures caused him to migrate from his hometown of Bamiyan to the community of Ghazni, some 94 miles away (over 150 kilometers), leaving behind his wife.

The Afghan city of Ghazni, as it appeared in 2010, a thousand years after the writing of Yair's letter. Photo by Tech. Sgt. James May, U.S. Air Force.
The Afghan city of Ghazni, as it appeared in 2010, a thousand years after the writing of Yair’s letter. Photo by Tech. Sgt. James May, U.S. Air Force.

The young man also faced accusations that he had failed to observe the Sabbath and “committed falsehood regarding property.” Yair’s letter is addressed to a man known as Abu al-Hasan Siman-Tov, who may very well have been his brother-in-law. It was written in the 11th-century in Judeo-Persian (Persian written in Hebrew letters).

The first page of the 11th-century letter, written in Judeo-Persian, from "Yair" to Abu al-Hasan Siman-Tov, the National Library collections.
The first page of the 11th-century letter, written in Judeo-Persian, from “Yair” to Abu al-Hasan Siman-Tov, the National Library collections.

Here are some excerpts from the letter, as translated and transcribed by Ofir Haim:

“A thousand greetings to the beloved brother Abu al-Hasan Siman-Tov, may he have a long life, son of Abu Nasr, son of Daniyal. May God’s blessing and praise upon (his) body and soul (increase)…

The letter of the beloved brother arrived, may God keep him alive. I read (it). I was joyful at the news of his good health, may God bestow good tidings. Also I inform the beloved brother that these several letters (which) were written (saying) that I committed falsehood regarding property and broke promises, are all false claims. There should not be so much reproaching. If I took property, my affair and my reply are with the Merciful. I did not do a thing by which the Merciful was not pleased. If one says that I do not observe the Sabbath, I know such, brother, that the Mericful will not punish him because of that. These many reproaches should not be done by anyone. I did nothing contrary to (the customs of) people…

…this much should be known to you, that anyone who marries a woman does (this) for his own well-being, as all people have a (wife), not for this that I sit in Ghazni and she in Bamiyan. If I could have made a living in Bamiyan, it is true that I would have acted according to your will. 

Furthermore, if this portion of the alms and what should be given that people must give had not existed, I would have come there immediately, whether I could have done a certain work or not…

You know that I own goods, and God, blessed be His name, has apportioned (to me) as you see – not with a generous hand, a hundred thousand thanks to God, blessed be His name. I cannot do any other work and I am not a man who is accustomed to travelling and being remote from home, and I cannot do (this). And you know that this business and work that I do, if I am absent from the shop for one day, I will be needy that day. Therefore, when I must be workless for half a year, the door of the shop is closed here, the supplies run out, and I sit there workless. If you say that the answer to that is that I sit here and they in Bamiyan, by no means do I accept this.

I cannot bring this work to an end, but I will make an effort that perhaps (if) I set aside these alms, I will immediately come there. I am concerned about the mother that I am very troubled about her, for I know that she is full of sorrow. However, she should not search for her happiness, others should look after some of it…

From Yair son of ‘ymyd/’ymyr

(To be sent) to Bamiyan…God, almighty and exalted, willing.

The ninth of (the month of) Elul

A page from the 11th-century letter, written in Judeo-Persian, from Yair to Abu al-Hasan Siman-Tov, the National Library collections.
A page from the 11th-century letter, written in Judeo-Persian, from Yair to Abu al-Hasan Siman-Tov, the National Library collections.

We do not know what response Yair received to his letter, or whether he was ever reunited with his family.

This article is based on research conducted by Ofir Haim, a graduate student in the Department of Middle Eastern History at the Hebrew University, and Dr. Yoel Finkelman, curator of the Judaica Collection at the National Library of Israel.

You can find more information on this subject in the article An Early Judeo-Persian Letter sent from Ghazna to Bāmiyān published in Bulletin of the Asia Institute New Series, Vol. 26 (2012), pp. 103-119

 

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Immigration on Agenda as Top Figures Gather in Jerusalem

Third gathering of the Global Forum of the National Library of Israel to focus on immigration, borders and identity — in Jewish, Israeli and universal contexts

Arrival of the Exodus, 1947, Photo: Keren HaYesod, from the National Library of Israel Photograph Collections

Arrival of the Exodus, 1947, photo: Keren HaYesod, from the National Library of Israel Photograph Collections

On March 17-19, some 80 prominent figures from Israel and around the world will gather in Jerusalem for the third meeting of the Global Forum of the National Library of Israel to discuss this year’s topic, “Migration-Borders-Identity.” Conversations will address universal cultural, sociopolitical and philosophical issues, as well as their specific Jewish, Israeli and Zionist dimensions. 

Participants include Thomas Friedman, Jamaica Kincaid, Natan Sharansky, Stanley Fischer, Jack Lew, Dan Kurtzer, David Makovsky, Abby Joseph Cohen, Mark Lilla, Mustafa Aykol, Anita Shapira and other leading figures from the worlds of literature, diplomacy, journalism, academia, economics, and more.

Though libraries are generally associated with enforced utter silence, this is not the case with the National Library in Jerusalem, which serves as the collective memory of the Jewish people worldwide and Israelis of all backgrounds and faiths. 

Now in the midst of a transformative renewal, the 125-year-old institution is opening access to the cultural treasures of Israel and the Jewish world as never before – in person and online – serving as a cutting-edge global center at the forefront of knowledge dissemination and cultural creativity. The stunning new National Library campus, now under construction between the Knesset and the Israel Museum, will serve as the clearest manifestation of this renewal. 

 “Traditionally Jews studied in noisy environments, as opposed to the traditional librarian demanding complete silence. We need to find the balance between the two,” says National Library of Israel chairman David Blumberg.

The bi-annual Global Forum gathering is one way this delicate balance is found, and a central element of the National Library’s renewal. The Forum serves as a singular platform for contemporary discussions inspired by the Jewish, Israeli and universal intellectual traditions embodied by the National Library’s collections, values, and vision.

The Global Forum of the National Library of Israel, photo: Hanan Cohen, the National Library of Israel
The Global Forum of the National Library of Israel, photo: Hanan Cohen, the National Library of Israel

In this context, the current gathering will address pressing questions relating to the challenges and opportunities posed by human migration: Which factors lead immigration to strengthen cultural development as opposed to eroding it? What justifies decisions about who is permitted and who is refused to cross borders? What are the implications of migration on international world order and the political stability of countries? How have personal experiences related to migration influenced the work of prominent authors? How have the Jewish people’s wanderings influenced and shaped their fate, identities, and values throughout the generations? How do Israeli elected officials view the dilemmas of refugees and infiltrators to which they must respond?

Discussions will be made available to audiences around the world on the Global Forum website. Select materials and related original content will also be featured on the National Library blog and Facebook page. The Times of Israel is the proud media partner of this year’s gathering of the Global Forum of the National Library of Israel.

The chairman of the Global Forum is Prof. Moshe Halbertal, renowned scholar and co-author of the Israel Defense Forces code of ethics. Ninth president of the State of Israel Shimon Peres served as the Global Forum’s founding honorary chairman.