This is the text of an article that I read earlier today and sums so much of how Jews are viewed in so much of the Muslim world. It is sad but true that many Muslims in the Middle East and beyond do not hate Jews because of Israel but rather hate Israel because it is Jewish.
Do find the time to read the whole of this piece, I found it very moving....
Almost a martyr
By Eliezer Schulman and Michal Ish-Shalom
Dr. David Gerbi in the Libyan synagogue which he almost lost his life
Dr. David Gerbi, a Libyan-born, observant psychologist living in Italy, spent the summer in a Libyan rebel encampment, joining the revolutionary forces and providing them psychiatric care. But their gratitude didn't last for long. He was nearly lynched and then booted out of the country when he tried to clean up a desecrated synagogue that hadn't seen a Jew since Muammar Gaddafi took over the country 42 years ago.
Dr. Gerbi, international director of the World Organization of Libyan Jews, was the first Jew to cast his lot with the Libyan rebels when he joined the Benghazi Psychiatric Hospital staff to teach the techniques of healing post-traumatic stress disorder among the fighters. Throughout the summer, Dr. Gerbi, holed up with the revolutionaries, assisted rebel leaders in formulating strategies and restoring unity within their ranks when internal conflicts arose.
After Gaddafi was ousted, the interim government, the National Transitional Council, talked about giving him a position in the soon-to-be-formed parliament, as an official voice for religious tolerance in a country run by an extremist despot for four decades.
Although the new Libya is struggling for a more democratic identity, Gaddafi's 42-year rule succeeded in brainwashing the public with virulent anti-Semitism, propagating the myth that the Jews absconded with the country's wealth to Israel — when in reality Gaddafi had kicked out all the Jews who remained after the Arab riots of the 1960s. He then confiscated all Jewish property, worth about $500 million, adding it to his private fortune estimated at $200 billion, which he amassed by embezzling Libya's wealth.
While Gerbi waited for a new government to take shape, he decided to spend the High Holidays in Libya. For Rosh Hashanah, he traveled to Tripoli along with the rebels, where he was to deliver letters from the World Organization of Libyan Jews to Mustafa Abdul Jalil, leader of the revolution and president of the interim government. At that point, he was being treated as a future member of parliament.
But a man like David Gerbi is not one to idle away his precious days in the newly freed country of Libya. Gerbi sought to become the first Jew to pray in the abandoned, decaying Dar Bishi synagogue in Tripoli, where his forebears had prayed. That simple act of devotion proved that undoing Gaddafi's work would not be simple after all.
When Dr. Gerbi peered into the interior of the synagogue, he was confronted by a horrifying sight. The entrance was blocked by a brick wall, and the house of prayer that had displayed its glory before the expulsion of Libya's Jews had turned into a den of iniquity, a place desecrated by society's degenerates. Piles of refuse were strewn throughout the sanctuary.
"When I entered the shul, the first words that came out were charam kabir — a grave offense. I could not tolerate that G0d's Name had been defaced in such a way," Dr. Gerbi told Mishpacha on his return to Rome.
Dr. Gerbi activated the connections that he had amassed in the previous months, including four sheikhs, to clean out the synagogue. "I spoke with the police force and with members of the army who knew me. We were all friendly after all the time I had spent in the area. They permitted me to clean out the shul and to pray there."
The only way to remove the accumulated trash was to demolish the wall that blocked the synagogue's doorway. "I bought equipment for ten people to work together — brooms, hammers, work tools, and cleaning supplies." In the meantime, a team of photographers and journalists stood by as Gerbi brandished his sledgehammer and struck the wall repeatedly. Perspiration streamed from his brow; the job wasn't easy. At one point, Gerbi even burst into tears and promised that he would not allow himself to be broken until he entered the shul and carried out his mission.
It was now less than a week before the holiest day of the Jewish calendar, Yom Kippue. Dr. Gerbi had set a goal of rendering the synagogue usable by the end of the week. He recruited a team of six additional men and paid them each 4,000 dinars. He also brought his own Book of Psalms and a sign inscribed with the phrase "Shivisi Hashem l'negdi tamid -- I place the Divine before always, that is traditionally mounted in many synagogues.
Gerbi spoke with Sheikh Jamal, one of the most influential religious figures in the new Libya. The sheikh agreed to the shul's restoration and agreed to accompany Gerbi on his visit to the cleaned-up shul.
GOING FOR BLOOD
The day before Yom Kippur, Gerbi entered the synagogue and lit three traditional lanterns. While he was in the middle of a silent prayer, "a group of Libyans ran inside and told me armed men were coming and planning to stab me to death," he recounts. "I was standing there and praying, and I said, 'I am not leaving. First I want to say Psalms.' That actually kept my fear level down. Meanwhile, the sheikh arrived, agitated; I was praying and he was panicking. He urged me to leave, and said that he wanted all the journalists to leave the shul. Then chaos began.
"I said, 'Just a few more pages and I'm done. Then I'll leave calmly. If G0d wants me to die within the sanctity of a shul, I am prepared for that, but I will not disgrace G0d's Name. I am trying to sanctify His name here.' In the meantime, people advised me to escape through the back door. For my part, I said, 'I'm going to leave through the front door, as is appropriate, with self-respect — because I am not acting only out of respect for myself, but out of respect for all Jews. I will honor the Jewish People this way. This is a shul, and I will not demonstrate disrespect for the Jewish Nation.' The sheikh then said I could leave through the front. I said, 'Come, let us go out together,' but even he suddenly grew afraid and ran out the back door."
Gerbi was driven by the desire to prove that a change had taken place in Libya, that the revolution he had assisted had not been in vain, that Gaddafi's rule had ended from the Jewish perspective as well. In an interview with a CNN correspondent after the event, Gerbi explained that if Libya were to undergo a democratization process, it had to include the recognition that Jews had lived and thrived in Libya for 2,300 years before they were evicted, a fact that Libyans who had grown up after the Jewish expulsion could not swallow.
"In the Arab countries," Gerbi says, "the Jews have always fled from the Arabs." That is the situation he wants to change. "I wanted to show that this time the Jews are not afraid. That's why I walked around with a black yarmulke on my head and with my tzitzis (ritual fringes) blowing in the wind. The Psalms I recited helped me feel my faith in G0d in the midst of the pogrom that was developing around me."
When Gerbi finally emerged from the synagogue, the security personnel who were protecting the journalists were waiting for him. He then broke down in a torrent of tears. "Why was it necessary to hate the Jews? What was my crime in wanting to daven [pray] in a shul and to clean it? I couldn't understand or accept what had happened," Gerbi relates bitterly.
David Gerbi's one-man act of religious sensitivity created an outburst of latent anti-Semitism. On Yom Kippur eve, the anti-Gerbi protests reached Benghazi, where a huge rally against him took place. At the same time, a massive protest was held at Tripoli Square, along with another one below the luxury Corinthia Hotel where he was staying. It was the night of Yom Kippur. For five hours, hundreds of people shouted that they wanted Gerbi to come downstairs; they wanted to seize him and kill him.
"When I was aiding the revolution, being Jewish was just fine with them. Suddenly they wanted me to discard my Jewish identity?" he says, still hurting. "I refused to give in on this point. I was born in Libya and I am Jewish. The Italian consul called and begged me, 'Come; run away. People will come to rescue you.' The hotel staff and officials from the government also came, but I insisted that I would not move from the spot, because it was Yom Kippur, and I remained there. I decided that if G0d had decreed for me to die during the 10 Days of Repentance, that was what would be. I didn't want to be a hero or a martyr," Gerbi emphasizes. "I only wanted what we deserved, our rights."
Gerbi emphasizes that he did not blindly risk his life without thinking. "I knew that if they did anything to me, the entire international community would be aware of it. The media was there. I understood that I had to leave, but I didn't want to run away. This was like the exodus from Egypt, when the Jews left in an honorable way, rather than escaping like thieves in the night. The ambassador, the government officials, and the hotel staff all begged me, 'You will be aiding the revolution if you leave.' They were afraid for the safety of the guests and the hotel workers. Ultimately, I agreed to evacuate by plane on the night before Sukkos (Tabernacles)."
Gerbi remained in his hotel room under de facto house arrest. "The protestors were waiting to pounce on me. I trusted no one, and I remained in my room. For security reasons, I switched rooms. I didn't answer the telephone, and I took various steps to mislead anyone who might be trailing me. I would take an elevator to the wrong floor and switch elevators in the middle, so that no one knew where I was. In the meantime, I was summoned to the police station; they claimed that I had entered an archaeological site without permission.
"This approach — that it's an archaeological site and therefore entry is prohibited — this came from Gaddafi," Gerbi deduces. "I said, 'All right, I'm prepared to be questioned.' They were incensed by my acquiescence. They had hoped that I would plead for my life.
"I was amazed that this hatred was spurting forth. Gaddafi had brainwashed the country to believe the Jews had fled to Israel with all of Libya's wealth. They didn't even know that any Jews had been born in Libya; they thought I had come from Israel to take over the country. That's how brainwashed they were. They asked me, 'Do you have an Israeli passport?' I said, 'No, I have an Italian passport,' and they didn't believe me. When I told them I had been born in Libya, they were shocked."
THE LONG ROAD BACK
David Gerbi hasn't given up on his mission to salvage the Libyan Jewish heritage dating back to the third century Before the Common Era, and believes that, with Gaddafi's demise, it might again be possible. When Colonel Gaddafi came to power in 1969, the Jewish community of Libya had already been decimated
David Gerbi was 12 when his family was exiled from Tripoli, and he says that the trauma of that time — which he carried into adulthood — was what actually motivated him to enter the field of psychology.
"Suddenly, after the Six Day War, the Arabs began persecuting us. As a child, I didn't understand the reason, and it took me years to get over the inner turmoil of that time," Dr. Gerbi remembers. "Libya is close to Egypt, and Nasser encouraged the murder of Jews. They took over a portion of our property and placed a dividing wall on our porch, which I could not cross.
"So the entire community fled. Many went to Israel, but my parents fled to Italy. My father had been in the gold and diamond business; he left everything behind. Two years later, when Gaddafi came to power, he confiscated all Jewish property and prohibited Jews from reentering Libya.
Dr. Gerbi made several trips back to Libya before the revolution. In 2002, he succeeded in rescuing his aunt, the last Jew remaining in Gaddafi's domain; in 2007 he was invited to Libya by Gaddafi himself, after expressing his interest in visiting the land of his birth and restoring one of the synagogues located there, but he was quickly expelled; and in 2009, he met Gaddafi.
In 2009, Dr. Gerbi accepted an invitation to meet Gaddafi in Rome to speak about improving relations between the regime and Libya's exiled Jewish community. In recent years Gaddafi held irregular talks with Libyan Jews, preferring to deal with those in Italy over those who had settled in Israel, which he would vilify in overblown tirades. He had on occasion even promised to consider returning property rights, but nothing practical ever came of those talks.
"I can still see his face in front of me," Dr. Gerbi told a Jerusalem Post reporter on his return to Rome after the synagogue debacle. "He had the eyes of a Bedouin, someone who could find water in the desert, but he could not connect with our reality."
Dr. Gerbi still has hope for a democratic Libya but says the interim government has to make a choice — either to go with the hate-filled Islamists, or to open a new page in relations with the Jews.
"It's easy to get rid of Gaddafi the person," he said, "but much more difficult to get rid of the Gaddafi within."
IN A BUNKER, BEING A JEW IS JUST FINE
With gunfire clearly audible over the telephone line, Dr. David Gerbi spoke with Mishpacha this summer from a rebel encampment outside Benghazi in eastern Libya, where he spent several months giving psychological assistance to the rebels and their families, and serving as an advisor to the revolution's National Transitional Council. Because of the sensitive nature of his position, the conversation could not be publicized until now.
Can you describe your function with the rebels?
"I, together with the staff I've trained, prepare the men for battle, give them encouragement, inculcate them with faith in the justness of their goals, and help them to avoid turning into human beasts, despite the tremendous tension on the battlefield. They are in a very delicate psychological condition, and we work hard to channel their anger and bitter feelings into the fight for justice and not into harming innocent people. We tone down the intoxication of power while developing the thirst for victory, and I consult at length with people who are close to Mustafa Abdul Jalil, the temporary leader of the revolution, in order to guarantee that the focus remains on the goal and that the message is transmitted in the appropriate way and the appropriate spirit.
"You have to remember that these rebels still do not know what democracy is. They are united by the desire to overthrow Gaddafi. The West will have to offer them assistance and guidance."
Do the people around you know that you're Jewish?
"I don't flaunt my Jewishness, but I assume that there are people around me who are aware of it. I don't hide it. When I daven (pray) with tefillin (ritual head gear) in the morning, anyone who sees me knows that I am Jewish. They also see that I don't pray with them."
How do you obtain kosher food?
"One can find fruits and vegetables everywhere. I also have a few cans of preserves. I removed the labels so that they would not know where I acquired them. I am managing. I am not hungry, but I am also not satiated."
Do the rebels know that there was once a large community in Libya?
"No. The new generation in Libya is completely ignorant of the fact that ancient Jewish communities existed here until a few decades ago and that they were forced to leave all of their property behind. I have had long conversations with many people who were surprised to hear about this."
Have there been times when you feared for your life?
"Certainly. I am not here on a pleasure trip. I am in a place where there is constant gunfire. The entrenched regime has tried, and continues to try, to crush the rebels and quash the revolution. Whatever forces of Gaddafi still remain here use every means at their disposal, including the most brutal ones. My job includes, among other things, offering psychological assistance to the people who suffered through the regime's brutal oppression."
What brings a respected psychologist and observant Jew to leave his comfortable life in Rome and travel to the battlefield in Libya, where his life might come to an end?
A long silence prevails at the other end of the line. Finally, Gerbi speaks. "It's too long to explain, but, as is the case in many of the decisions we make in our lives, there are personal emotions involved here as well. My decision to come here involved various burdens that I have been carrying since my childhood. You must recall that I am not actually on the battlefield. Most of the time I'm stationed in a hospital in Benghazi, and along with the psychiatric staff of the hospital, I help the freedom fighters heal men suffering from post-trauma who have returned from the front lines."
They say that you sit with the rebel leaders and advise them on how to ignite the enthusiasm of the fighters, how to calm the frightened residents, and how to gain their loyalty.
"Let us not exaggerate," Gerbi's smile is evident even over the crackling phone line. "It's true that I assist them, that I do my part, but I do not have a decisive influence over various processes. As a rule, Gaddafi's tyrannical regime and his family were bad for the people. The freedom fighters are providing a solution that comes from the people. That being said, there have been instances in which I was consulted regarding bringing justice to the streets of Libya, and then I expressed an opinion. There are no other psychologists, and that is where my staff and I come in. I can be of assistance here. But to paint me as one of the leaders of the rebel forces would be a gross exaggeration."
Are there Jews among the rebel soldiers?
"I have neither met nor heard of any."
How long do you intend to remain there?
The sound of gunfire interrupts our conversation, followed by a recorded message that the number is not available.
