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leroibobo · 1 year ago

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some notes on specifically "middle eastern" (mashriqi + iran, caucuses, and turkey) jewish communities/history:

something to keep in mind: judaism isn't "universalist" like christianity or islam - it's easier to marry into it than to convert on your own. conversions historically happened, but not in the same way they did for european and caucasian christians/non-arab muslims.

that being said, a majority of middle eastern jews descend from jewish population who remained in palestine or immigrated/were forced (as is the case with "kurdish" jews) from palestine to other areas and mixed with locals/others who came later (which at some point stopped). pretty much everywhere in the middle east and north africa (me/na) has/had a jewish population like this.

with european jews (as in all of them), the "mixing" was almost entirely during roman times with romans/greeks, and much less later if they left modern-day greece/italy.

(none of this means jewish people are or aren't "indigenous" to palestine, because that's not what that word means.)

like with every other jewish diaspora, middle eastern jewish cultures were heavily influenced by wherever they ended up. on a surface level you can see this in things like food and music.

after the expulsion of jews from spain and portugal, sephardim moved to several places around the world; many across me/na, mostly to the latter. most of the ones who ended up in the former went to present-day egypt, palestine, lebanon, syria, and turkey. a minority ended up in iraq (such as the sassoons' ancestors). like with all formerly-ottoman territories, there was some degree of back and forth between countries and continents.

some sephardim intermarried with local communities, some didn't. some still spoke ladino, some didn't. there was sometimes a wealth gap between musta'arabim and sephardim, and/or they mostly didn't even live in the same places, like in palestine and tunisia. it really depends on the area you're looking at.

regardless, almost all the jewish populations in the area went through "sephardic blending" - a blending of local and sephardic customs - to varying degrees. it's sort of like the cultural blending that came with spanish/portugese colonization in central and south america (except without the colonization).

how they were treated also really depends where/when you're looking. some were consistently dealt a raw hand (like "kurdish" and yemenite jews) while some managed to do fairly well, all things considered (like baghdadi and georgian jews). most where somewhere in between. the big difference between me/na + some balkan and non-byzantine european treatment of jews is due to geography - attitudes in law regarding jews in those areas tended to fall into different patterns.

long story short: most european governments didn't consider anyone who wasn't "christian" a citizen (sometimes even if they'd converted, like roma; it was a cultural/ethnic thing as well), and persecuted them accordingly; justifying this using "race science" when religion became less important there after the enlightenment.

most me/na and the byzantine governments considered jews (and later, christians) citizens, but allowed them certain legal/social opportunities while limiting/banning/imposing others. the extent of both depend on where/when you're looking but it was never universally "equal".

in specifically turkey, egypt, palestine, and the caucuses, there were also ashkenazi communities, who came mainly because living as a jew in non-ottoman europe at the time sucked more than in those places. ottoman territories in the balkans were also a common destination for this sort of migration.

in the case of palestine, there were often religious motivations to go as well, as there were for some other jews who immigrated. several hasidic dynasites more or less came in their entirety, such as the lithuanian/polish/hungarian ones which precede today's neutrei karta.

ashkenazi migration didn't really happen until jewish emancipation in europe for obvious reasons. it also predates zionism - an initially secular movement based on contemporaneous european nationalist ideologies - by some centuries.

most ashkenazi jews today reside in the us, while most sephardic or "mizrahi" jews are in occupied palestine. there, the latter outnumber the former. you're more likely to find certain groups (like "kurds" and yemenites) in occupied palestine than others (like persians and algerians) - usually ones without a western power that backed them from reactionary antisemitic persecution and/or who came from poorer communities. (and no, this doesn't "justify" the occupation).

(not to say there were none who immigrated willingly/"wanted" to go, or that none/all are zionist/anti-zionist. (ben-gvir is of "kuridsh" descent, for example.) i'm not here to parse motivations.)

this, along with a history of racism/chauvinism from the largely-ashkenazi "left", are why many mizrahim vote farther "right".

(in some places, significant numbers of the jewish community stayed, like turkey, tunisia, and iran. in some others, there's evidence of double/single-digit and sometimes crypto-jewish communities.)

worldwide, the former outnumber the latter. this is thought to be because of either a medieval ashkenazi population boom due to decreased population density (not talking about the "khazar theory", which has been proven to be bullshit, btw) or a later, general european one in the 18th/19th centuries due to increased quality of life.

the term "mizrahi" ("oriental", though it doesn't have the same connotation as in english) in its current form comes from the zionist movement in the 1940s/50s to describe me/na jewish settlers/refugees.

(i personally don't find it useful outside of israeli jewish socio-politics and use it on my blog only because it's a term everyone's familiar with.)

about specifically palestinian jews:

the israeli term for palestinian jews is "old yishuv". yishuv means settlement. this is in contrast to the "new yishuv", or settlers from the initial zionist settlement period in 1881-1948. these terms are usually used in the sense of describing historical groups of people (similar to how you would describe "south yemenis" or "czechoslovaks").

palestinian jews were absorbed into the israeli jewish population and have "settler privilege" on account of their being jewish. descendants make up something like 8% of the israeli jewish population and a handful (including, bafflingly, netanyahu and smoltrich) are in the current government.

they usually got to keep their property unless it was in an "arab area". there's none living in gaza/the west bank right now unless they're settlers.

their individual views on zionism vary as much as any general population's views vary on anything.

(my "palestinian jews" series isn't intended to posit that they all think the same way i do, but to show a side of history not many people know about. any "bias" only comes from the fact that i have a "bias" too. this is a tumblr blog, not an encyclopedia.)

during the initial zionist settlement period, there were palestinian/"old yishuv" jews who were both for zionism and against it. the former have been a part of the occupation and its government for pretty much its entire history.

some immigrated abroad before 1948 and may refer to themselves as "syrian jews". ("syria" was the name given to syria/lebanon/palestine/some parts of iraq during ottoman times. many lebanese and palestinian christians emigrated at around the same time and may refer to themselves as "syrian" for this reason too.)

ones who stayed or immigrated after for whatever reason mostly refer to themselves as "israeli".

in israeli jewish society, "palestinian" usually implies muslims and christians who are considered "arab" under israeli law. you may get differing degrees of revulsion/understanding of what exactly "palestine"/"palestinians" means but the apartheid means that palestinian =/= jewish.

because of this, usage of "palestinian" as a self-descriptor varies. your likelihood of finding someone descendent from/with ancestry from the "old yishuv" calling themselves a "palestinian jew" in the same way an israeli jew with ancestry in morocco would call themselves a "moroccan jew" is low.

(i use it on here because i'm assuming everyone knows what i mean.)

samaritans aren't 'jewish', they're their own thing, though they count as jewish under israeli law.

#jewish #mizrahi #palestinian jews #info #my posts #repost with more info #sorry if this isn't the best time to post it (?) then again this is my blog and i'm not indebted to anyone so (shrugs)#i've been seeing a lot of misinfo too so

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for-the-folk · 20 days ago

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So, You Wanna Know About?: The Evil Eye

The concept of the “evil eye” exists in virtually every culture worldwide, as do amulets such as the nazar and hamsa. It's a fundamental part of most folk groups' magic and culture, which is why we use it as a symbol for our server. But what do we know about this concept and the symbols and practices surrounding it? Let’s take a second and explore.

What Exactly Is The Evil Eye?

In simplest terms, the evil eye is “a curse transmitted through a malicious glare, usually one inspired by envy.” [1] It's believed that this glare can cause misfortune, illness, injury, death, and general misery. [3] Pregnant women, infants, young children, and animals are thought to be especially susceptible. [4]

The Evil Eye’s First Appearance

Historians are unsure of the exact date the evil eye and amulets used to ward them off were invented, however, we can find examples going as far back as ancient Mesopotamia. Texts have been found in Ugarit (located in modern-day Syria) attesting to the concept until roughly 1180 BC. [2] According to Dr Nese Yildiran, “The earliest version of eye amulets goes back to 3,300 BC … The amulets had been excavated in Tell Brak, one of the oldest cities of Mesopotamia – modern-day Syria. They were in the form of some abstract alabaster idols made with incised eyes.” [1]

The Evil Eye Travels

Various things across history such as trade, travel, colonization, and immigration have caused the evil eye to travel the world. It spread through the SWANA region at first, but soon traveled to all continents worldwide: “[The evil eye has] occurred in ancient Greece and Rome, in Jewish, Islamic, Buddhist, and Hindu traditions ... [and in] Indigenous, peasant, and other folk societies.” [4] Historians have found it difficult to trace exact lines of transmission of the idea, but it notably seemed to spread rapidly among the common folk or working class. [5] It wasn't long before its presence became known across all continents, though it has always varied across time and space. For example “In Roman times, not only were individuals considered to possess the power of the evil eye but whole tribes…were believed to be transmitters of the evil eye.” [6] This is very different from how the evil eye exists in the current regions of the previous Roman Empire, as these tribes no longer exist.

It Came With The Amulets!

One of the earliest amulets associated with the evil eye is the nazar. Its name comes from the Arabic “‏نَظَر‎” (naðˤar) meaning “sight,” with many other languages adopting this term or creating their own. [7] The blue eye-shaped bead most commonly associated with this particular amulet is “made of a mixture of molten glass, iron, copper, water, and salt, ingredients that are thought to shield people from evil.” [8] Its blue color may be because “blue eyes are relatively rare [in the SWANA region], so the ancients believed that people with light eyes, particularly blue eyes, could curse you with just one look. This belief is so ancient, even the Assyrians had turquoise and blue-eye amulets.” [9] A similar amulet adopted from the nazar is the hamsa, similarly originating in the SWANA region. [10] The two have become perhaps the most widespread and well-known amulets, though they are certainly not the only ones.

Evil Eye Across Cultures & Religions

NOTE: this is not an exhaustive list, but a jumping off point.

Judaism: The evil eye can be found across various Jewish literature, from the Tanakh to the Talmud, and even books like Pikeri Avot. [11] It’s known best as the “ayin hara” which is Hebrew for the evil eye, though it may have different names across diaspora (for example, in Jewish-Spanish languages like Ladino it might be known as “Mal de Ojo”) [12] There are various customs to protect one from the evil eye across the Jewish diaspora, such as neckbands worn by boys for their brit milah, in the regions of Alsace, Southern Germany, and Switzerland just to name one. [13] One of our Jewish server members, Yosef, says “I'm Jewish and have been all my life ... my family is eastern European and we have gone to orthodox shul and (no) evil eye and other related symbols are prevalent in my family's practice along with the practice of my synagogues ... as such I constantly carry around the symbol”

Islam: The evil eye as a concept in Islam, known as the “al-ʽayn” is common. It's believed to destroy one's good fortune or cause illness. [14] Various phrases including “Mashallah” (God has willed it) are used to ward off the evil eye – “The imperativeness of warding this all too evident evil eye off is common among local communities. Not only did the absence of a “mashallah” tempt fate but it is also believed certain individuals have the power to conjure up the dark forces of the evil eye.” [15]

Italy: The evil eye in Italian is known as the “mal’occhio.” [16] In some regions, the cornicello ("little horn") is an amulet used to ward off the evil eye. It comes from Naples and it’s usually made of red coral and pepper shaped. [17] According to Antonio Pagliarulo, “some families, depending on the region of Italy from which they come, will pin the amulet to a baby's clothing either immediately before or immediately after his or her baptism.” [18]

Ireland: In Ireland, the evil eye is known as “Droch-shúil.” [19] There are a few various Irish folktales about the presence of the evil eye that warn of its dangers. One example is the tale of King Balor. The tale goes that “Balor was a king of the Formorians, the ancient inhabitants of Ireland (before the coming of the Tuatha Dé Danann). He is often described as a giant with a huge eye in the middle of his forehead. This eye brought death and destruction [onto] anyone he cast his gaze upon. He had gained this power from peering into a cauldron that contained a powerful spell that was being created by some druids. The vapors from the cauldron got into his eye when he looked inside which gave him the power of his deathly gaze. The most memorable instance of Balor using his eye is the story of his death at the battle of Maigh Tuireadh. In this famous battle between the Formorians and the Tuatha Dé Danann, Balor fell in battle at the hands of his own grandson, the pan-Celtic god Lugh, when he thrust his spear (or sling depending on the telling) through the eye of the giant. His eye was blown out the back of his head, turning his deadly gaze on his own men, destroying the forces of the Formorians. A piece of Dindseanchas (meaning lore of places) tells us that the place where his head fell and burned a hole in the ground, later filled with water and became known as “Lough na Suil” or “The Lake of the Eye”. Interestingly, this lake disappears every few years when it drains into a sinkhole. Local mythology says that this happens to ensure that the atrocities of the battle may never be forgotten.” [20]

Germany: In German, the evil eye is known as the “Bölser Blick”, something that is cured by a variety of methods such as red string, prayer, salt, iron, and incense. [21]

Poland: In Poland the evil eye is called "złe oko" or "złe spojrzenie." [23] In some regions, they use amulets known as "czarownica" which are charms often made from herbs, metals, or stones, or specific gestures believed to ward off the evil eye. In many Polish homes, you might find them hanging on the walls. A ‘czarownica’ might also be a necklace with a pendant crafted from amber, which is believed to ward off negative energy. [22] There are also folk tales about the evil eye, such as “an archaic Polish folk tale that tells of a man whose gaze was such a potent carrier of the curse that he resorted to cutting out his own eyes rather than continuing to spread misfortune to his loved ones” [1]

Russia: In Russian the evil eye is called "дурной глаз" or just "сглаз." [23] Some Russians ward off the evil eye by bathing in running water, which carries the negativity away. Fire is also used, with young people jumping over a campfire to remove bad energy. Carrying salt or pinning the fabric of your clothing are also other simple ways to ward off the evil eye. [24]

Mexico: In Mexican culture, the evil eye (el ojo) is thought to be especially prevalent during November around the time of Dia de los Muertos, with children being particularly susceptible. There are various ways a child may get the evil eye such as from a stare of a drunk or angry person, or a person who is "caloroso," or overheated from working out in a hot environment such as under the sun or cooking over a hot stove. [25] Some may use an ojo de venado, or “eye of the deer” as a protective charm, which is only effective if “worn as an amulet around the neck at all times.” [26] As a quote from one of our staff members, Ezekiel: “I was raised in a very Hispanic area so we all wore evil eye bracelets most of the time woven from the flea market… In Mexico or some parts of Latin America, it is called El mal de ojo and it is believed that different colored evil eyes do different things.”

Rroma: The concept of the evil eye also exists amongst the Rromani people. For Rroma in Slovakia, the belief in jakhendar is prevalent, often being diagnosed and cured with jagalo paňi, or ‘coal water’ [27] Rroma in places like Brno are also thought to be particularly susceptible to the evil eye, leading to communities to find members to help protect themselves. According to scholar Eva Figurová, “This role, instead, is appointed to the village shepherd, blacksmith, or other person perceived by the community as gifted with the ability to heal, cure, and ward off the effects of negative forces, whether intentionally or not. Nowadays, among the Roma in Brno, the chanting of the zoči is a common ritual that does not require the presence of a specialist.” [28]

India: In many parts of India, people use a nazar battu to ward off the evil eye, or the buri nazar. [29] Other methods of warding off the evil eye include hanging a drishti bommai [30], mothers spitting on their children [31], or marking them with a black mark on the cheek. [32]

Ethiopia: In Ethiopian culture, the evil eye is known as the "buda." [33] It is thought to be wielded by certain people (i.e. metalworkers) and warded off by amulets created by a debtera, or unordained priest. [34]

Conclusion

This blog post only begins to touch the surface when it comes to the evil eye. The history across time and space is so expensive one can truly dedicate their entire lives to studying and still not know everything there is to know. We sincerely hope that we have provided some perspective and gave some jumping off points for further exploration.

Sources & Further Reading:

Hargitai, Quinn (2018). “The strange power of the ‘evil eye’”. BBC. https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20180216-the-strange-power-of-the-evil-eye. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

Pardee, Dennis (2002). "VIII. INCANTATIONS: RS 22.225: The Attack of the Evil Eye and a Counterattack". Writings from the Ancient World: Ritual and Cult at Ugarit (vol. 10). Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature. pp. 161–166.

Ross, C (2010). "Hypothesis:The Electrophysiological Basis of the Evil Eye Belief". Anthropology of Consciousness. 21: 47–57.

Britannica, The Editors of Encyclopaedia. "evil eye". Encyclopedia Britannica, 28 Oct. 2024, https://www.britannica.com/topic/evil-eye. Accessed 3 November 2024.

Gershman, Boris (2014). The Economic Origins of the Evil Eye Belief. American University (Washington, D.C.). Online resource. https://doi.org/10.57912/23845272.v1

Elworthy, Frederick Thomas (1895). The Evil Eye: An Account of this Ancient and Widespread Superstition. J. Murray.

WICC Authors, (2023). Nazar (amulet). https://wicc2023.org/nazar-amulet/. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

Williams, Victoria (2016). Celebrating Life Customs Around the World: From Baby Showers to Funerlan, p.344.

Lynn, Heather (2019). Evil Archaeology, p.167

Bernasek, Lisa. (2008) “Artistry of the Everyday: Beauty and Craftsmanship in Berber Art” Volume 2 of Peabody Museum collections. Harvard University Press. pg 12. ISBN 978-0-87365-405-0

Ulmer, Rivka (1994). KTAV Publishing House, Inc. (ed.). The evil eye in the Bible and in rabbinic literature. KTAV Publishing House. p. 176. ISBN 978-0-88125-463-1.

Jewitches Blog. “The Evil Eye.” Jewitches, 18 Apr. 2023, jewitches.com/blogs/blog/the-evil-eye. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

Birth Culture. Jewish Testimonies from Rural Switzerland and Environs (in German and English). Basel: Naomi Lubrich. 2022. pp. 35–37.

Evil Eye - Oxford Islamic Studies Online.” Archive.org, 2018, web.archive.org/web/20180825110529/www.oxfordislamicstudies.com/article/opr/t125/e597. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

“Mashallah: What It Means, When to Say It and Why You Should.” The National, 22 May 2013, www.thenationalnews.com/lifestyle/mashallah-what-it-means-when-to-say-it-and-why-you-should-1.264001. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

“Mal’occhio | a brief understanding (and offering).” Radici Siciliane, 17 Nov. 2020, www.radicisiciliane.com/blog/malocchio-a-brief-understanding-and-offering. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

Melissi, Paolo. The Cornicello: A Traditional Lucky Charm from Naples. 18 June 2021, italian-traditions.com/cornicello-traditional-lucky-charm-from-naples/. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

Pagliarulo, Antonio. The Evil Eye. Red Wheel/Weiser, 2023. ISBN 978-1-63341-294-1

“Irish Superstitions: The Evil Eye, Fairy Forts, and Lucky Charms.” IrishHistory.com, 14 May 2023, www.irishhistory.com/myths-legends/folk-tales-superstitions/irish-superstitions-the-evil-eye-fairy-forts-and-lucky-charms/. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

“The Evil Eye.” Ireland’s Folklore and Traditions, 12 July 2017, irishfolklore.wordpress.com/2017/07/12/the-evil-eye/. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

Katharina, Anneke. “Boser Blick: Evil Eye in German Folk Magic.” Instagram.com, 2024, www.instagram.com/p/CrO8IIeLMgu/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&img_index=1. Accessed 3 Nov. 2024.

Tobey, Julie. “The Meaning of the Evil Eye in Polish Culture.” Polish Culture NYC -, 7 June 2024, www.polishculture-nyc.org/the-meaning-of-the-evil-eye-in-polish-culture/. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

Haroush, Alissa. “42 Names for the Evil Eye and Where Did the Evil Eye Amulet Originate.” Alef Bet by Paula, Mar. 2021, www.alefbet.com/blogs/blog/42-names-for-the-evil-eye-and-where-did-the-evil-eye-amulet-originate. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

Sorokina, Anna. “How Russians Protect Themselves from Evil Spirits.” Russia Beyond, 3 Nov. 2024, www.rbth.com/lifestyle/331213-protect-from-evil-russia. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

Mexico, Na’atik. “El Mal de Ojo, the Evil Eye.” Na’atik Language & Culture Institute, 26 May 2023, naatikmexico.org/blog/el-mal-de-ojo-the-evil-eye. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

“The Evil Eye.” The Atlantic, 1 Oct. 1965, www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/1965/10/the-evil-eye/659833/. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

Hajská, Markéta. “The evil eye – Jakhendar” Factsheets on Romani Culture. https://rm.coe.int/factsheets-on-romani-culture-2-3-the-evil-eye-jakhendar/1680aac373

FIGUROVÁ, Eva. Contemporary signs of magic in the everyday life of Roma minority in the selected areas of Brno, focusing on magical acts like “pokerování” and evil eye. In Individual and Society [Človek a spoločnosť], 2022, Vol. 25, Iss. 3. https://doi.org/10.31577/cas.2022.03.609

Stanley A. Wolpert, Encyclopedia of India, Volume 1, Charles Scribner & Sons, 2005, ISBN 9780684313498

Kannan, Shalini. “Surprises and Superstitions in Rural Tamil Nadu.” Milaap.org, Milaap, 15 Apr. 2016, milaap.org/stories/surprises-and-superstitions-in-rural-tamil-nadu. Accessed 1 Nov. 2024.

John Abbott, Indian ritual and belief: the keys of power, Usha, 1984

George Vensus A. (2008). Paths to The Divine: Ancient and Indian (Volume 12 of Indian philosophical studies). Council for Research in Values and Philosophy, USA. ISBN 1565182480. pp. 399.

Turner, John W. "Ethiopian Orthodox Christianity: Faith and practices". A Country Study: Ethiopia Archived 2012-09-10 at the Wayback Machine. Thomas P. Ofcansky and LaVerle Berry, eds. Washington: Library of Congress Federal Research Division, 1991.

Finneran, Niall. "Ethiopian Evil Eye Belief and the Magical Symbolism of Iron Working. Archived 2012-07-12 at the Wayback Machine" Folklore, Vol. 114, 2003.

#folk magic #folk practice #folk practitioner #folk witchcraft #magic #witch #witch community #witch stuff #witchblr #witchcraft #the evil eye #evil eye #nazar #amulet #enjoy!#long post

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argyrocratie · 1 year ago

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"In “Memory Voids and Role Reversals,” Palestinian political science professor Dana El Kurd writes of her jarring experience, hearing of the October 7th massacres by Hamas while visiting the Holocaust Tower at the Jewish Museum in Berlin. She notes the historic irony of Holocaust survivors seeking security from future oppression by expelling another people from their homeland by the hundreds of thousands, ghettoizing them in enclaves enforced by military checkpoints, and controlling them with collective punishment.

The irony of a state formed as the “antithesis” to the ghetto using ghettoization as a strategy of control is not lost on Palestinians. This infrastructure of coercion went hand in hand, of course, with ever-present physical violence — imprisonment, home demolitions, air strikes and more.

She quotes Aristide Zolberg’s observation that “formation of a new state can be a ‘refugee-generating process.’”

This is not only true of Palestinians. The Westphalian nation-state, which has been the normative component of the international system since the Treaty of Westphalia, necessarily entails (especially since the post-1789 identification of nationalism with the nation-state) the suppression of ethnic identity to a far greater extent than the expression of any such identity. Every constructed national identity associated with a “State of the X People” has necessarily involved the suppression and homogenization of countless ethnicities present in the territory claimed by that state. At the time of the French Revolution, barely half the “French” population spoke any of the many langue d’oil dialects of northern France, let alone the dialect of the Ile de France (the basis for the official “French” language). The rest spoke Occitan dialects like Provençal, or non-Romance languages like Breton (whose closest living relative is Welsh). The same is true of Catalan, Aragonese, Basque, and Galician in Spain, the low-German languages and now-extinct Wendish in Germany, the non-Javanese ethnicities of Indonesia, and so on. Heads of state issue sonorous pronouncements concerning the “Nigerian People” or “Zimbabwean People,” in reference to multi-ethnic populations whose entire “identity” centers on lines drawn on a map at the Berlin Conference.

When I say official national languages were established through the suppression of their rivals, I mean things like the residential schools of the United States and Canada punishing Native children for using their own languages. Or schools around the world shaming students with signs reading “I Spoke Welsh (or Breton, or Provencal, or Catalan, or Basque, or Ainu, or an African vernacular instead of the English, French, etc., lingua franca). And so on.

And when we consider the range of artificial national identities that were constructed by suppressing other real ethnicities, we can’t forget the “Jewish People” of Israel. Its construction occurred part and parcel with the suppression of diasporic Jewish ethnic identities all over Europe and the Middle East. The “New Jewish” identity constructed by modern Zionism was associated with the artificial revival of Hebrew, which had been almost entirely a liturgical language for 2300 years, as an official national language. And this, in turn, was associated with the suppression — both official and unofficial — of the actually existing Jewish ethnicities associated with the Yiddish, Ladino, and Arabic languages.

The centuries-old languages and cultures of actual Jewish ethnicities throughout Europe were treated as shameful relics of the past, to be submerged and amalgamated into a new artificially constructed Jewish identity centered on the Hebrew language.

Yiddish, the language spoken by the Ashkenazi Jews of Europe — derived from an archaic German dialect and written in the Hebrew alphabet — was stigmatized by Zionist leaders in Palestine and by the early Israeli government. According to Max Weinreich’s History of the Yiddish Language, the “very making of Hebrew into a spoken language derives from the will to separate from the Diaspora.” Diasporic Jewish identities, as viewed by Zionist settlers, were “a cultural morass to be purged.” The “New Jew” was an idealized superhuman construct, almost completely divorced from centuries worth of culture and traditions of actual Jews: “Yiddish began to represent diaspora and feebleness, said linguist Ghil’ad Zuckermann. ‘And Zionists wanted to be Dionysian: wild, strong, muscular and independent.’”

This “contempt for the Diaspora” was “manifested . . . in the fierce campaign against Yiddish in Palestine, which led not only to the banning of Yiddish newspapers and theaters but even to physical attacks against Yiddish speakers.” From the 1920s on, anyone in Palestine with the temerity to publish in Yiddish risked having their printing press destroyed by organizations with names like the “Battalion of the Defenders of the Hebrew Language,” “Organization for the Enforcement of Hebrew,” and “Central Council for the Enforcement of Hebrew.” The showing of the Yiddish-language film Mayn Yidishe Mame (“My Yiddish Mama”), in Tel Aviv in 1930, provoked a riot led by the above-mentioned Battalion. After the foundation of Israel, “every immigrant was required to study Hebrew and often to adopt a Hebrew surname.” In its early days Israel legally prohibited plays and periodicals in the Yiddish language. A recent defender of the early suppression of Yiddish, in the Jerusalem Post, argued that Diasporic languages threatened to “undermine the Zionist project”; in other words, an admission that actually existing ethnic identities threatened an identity manufactured by a nationalist ideology.

If this is true of Yiddish — the native language of the Ashkenazi Jews who dominated the Zionist settlement of Palestine — it’s even more so of the suppression of Jewish ethnic identities outside the dominant Sephardic minority. Golda Meir once dismissed Jews of non-Ashkenazi or non-Yiddish descent as “not Jews.”

Consider the roughly half of the Israeli population comprised of Mizrahi Jews from Middle Eastern communities (including those living in Palestine itself before European settlement). Although the Mizrahim are trotted out as worthy victims when they are convenient for purposes of Israeli propaganda — the majority of them were expelled from Arab countries like Iraq after 1948, in what was an undeniable atrocity — they are treated the rest of the time as an embarrassment or a joke, and have been heavily discriminated against, by the descendants of Ashkenazi settlers. For example former Prime Minister David Ben Gurion described Mizrahim

as lacking even “the most elementary knowledge” and “without a trace of Jewish or human education.” Ben Gurion repeatedly expressed contempt for the culture of the Oriental Jews: “We do not want Israelis to become Arabs. We are in duty bound to fight against the spirit of the Levant, which corrupts individuals and societies, and preserve the authentic Jewish values as they crystallized in the Diaspora.”

Current Prime Minister Netanyahu once joked about a “Mizrahi gene” as his excuse for tardiness. And an Israeli realtor ran a commercial appealing to “there goes the neighborhood” sentiments by depicting a light-skinned family having their Passover celebration disrupted by uncouth Mizrahi neighbors.

Nationalism and the nation-state are the enemies of true ethnicity and culture, and built on their graves. There’s no better illustration of this principle than the Zionist project itself."

-Kevin Carson, "Zionism and the Nation-State: Palestinians Are Not the Only Victims"

#kevin carson #zionism #nation state #yiddish

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unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240 · 10 months ago

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Jewish Song of the Day #12: Bellida

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Okay so at one point I went spelunking for more female Jewish singers singing in classical styles, and I stumbled upon this song, which is sung in Haketia, a Moroccan dialect of Ladino that also incorporates some Arabic.

It's a secular(ish) song, but very much culturally Jewish.

I'm not going to explain it well, so instead I'll simply quote from this article about it:

On October 25, 2019, Bloch and Zaaluk released their newest hit single Bellida. The song is sung in the traditional Haketia, an endangered Jewish Romance language also known as Djudeo Spañol, Ladino Occidental, or Western Judaeo-Spanish. Tamar is part of a new generation of young artists from Arab and Islamic countries who sing in their mother tongues. Her mother was born in Morocco. “I’m not involved in a preservation project and the social narrative isn’t what’s important to me. In my music I have found, after much searching, a real place for intimate expression – a language that’s a home, ” said the singer in her interview with Haaretz Magazine. Bellida is “definitely a pop album. It’s not world music from a distant and inaccessible culture, which is being preserved. I bring the songs in modern arrangements in the understanding of how relevant this music is.” The song was arranged with the help of Roee Fadida. It is a humoristic women’s song that represents the tradition of women singing in everyday life. “It tells the story about a Jewish-Moroccan girl (Bellida) who falls in love and marries Pepe, a Christian man. The ladies in her village make jokes about it but comfort her with local food.” Although Bloch and primarily sings with the goal of inspiring audiences to sing and dance, she understands her creation bears social obligation. Specifically, it is the female responsibility aspect of Bellida that Bloch warmly embraces. “It is something that I really yearn for,” she says. “Jews assimilation is a very serious prohibition, yet Bellida is not ostracized. She is cared for by means of tradition and food.” Bellida is Bloch’s interpretation of secular feminine folklore. “I imagine these women dancing together. Music brings people together. In Morocco, you see everyone sitting and singing, and being familiar with the words,” she says. “In Israel music reflects the various cultural homes from which we came. The real challenge is to try to create a new sound from within every such home.” In sharing her story of how the heritage songs came into her life, Bloch explained that in 2014, Roee Fadida, a role model, invited her to join a band that plays contemporary Moroccan music. She described having a physical reaction to that music. It felt like I was “smelling a roll outside a bakery and I had to take a bite.” Bellida is performed alongside Bloch’s band Zaaluk, a trans-Mediterranean and North African ensemble that revive lost Haketiya women’s songs. Their age-old melodies are performed to inspire people to sing and dance together and embrace the heritage of the ancient Jewish community of Spanish Morocco. Their sounds are inspired by Andalusian, North African, and Balkan musical traditions. Their music is a combination of electric guitar, bass guitar, drums, percussion, and powerful vocals, performed in Israel and abroad. The name of the band refers to a local Moroccan salad and captures the group’s multi-cultural essence.

#jumblr #jewish music #Jewish Song of the Day

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matan4il · 1 year ago

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Hello. This is a rather mundane question considering all the things, but I got curious. Does Hebrew have accents? How do they vary in and out of Israel?

I understand if you choose not to reply as this is a difficult time for you. In any case, take care🩷🩷🩷

Hi Nonnie! No, don't worry, all questions that are truly interested in Jewish culture are welcome! ^u^

TBH, something to remember about Hebrew is that it has quite a unique history. To the best of my knowledge, it is the only language that was used on a daily basis as the lived in language of a native population, then "died" as a result of Jews being exiled. As they found themselves in other countries, they had to speak the local language. They didn't abandon Hebrew, but it stopped being the langauge in which they lived their daily lives. Hebrew became the language of prayer, of scripture study, and terms from it bled into the local languages Jews spoke, creating Jewish versions of these languages (Yiddish being the Jewish version of German, Ladino being the Jewish version of Spanish, Yevanik being the Jewish version of Greek, and there are also Jewish versions of Arabic and other languages, too), so Hebrew still had an impact on Jews, and they were still connected to it... but it was no longer a "living" language. It was closer to what Latin is today. A language in which religious ceremonies are conducted, that theologians study, but not a language that anyone conducts their daily life in.

Then, as a part of the project of reclaiming and reviving the Jewish native life in Israel that came to be known as Zionism, people set out to revive our native language, too. There was a realization that it had to be adapted to modern life, give it terms for things that didn't exist 2,000 years ago, so it would be useful for people who wanted to conduct their daily lives in Hebrew again. And that's how the last of the Canaanite languages became the only "dead" language to be revived, and return to be the lived in language of its native people.

I mention this unique history, because modern Hebrew isn't the same as biblical Hebrew (though about 60% of modern Hebrew IS biblical). It means if there were different Hebrew accents during biblical times, we don't know it for sure.

At the same time, the fact that Jews were spread out in the diaspora, and their pronunciation of Hebrew (as a dead language) came to be influenced by the local languages they spoke while in exile. So a Jew who returned to Israel from the diaspora in Germany, a Jew who returned to Israel from the diaspora in Argentina, and a Jew who returned to Israel from the diaspora in Yemen do not have the same accent when speaking Hebrew.

But these are not considered regional accents of Hebrew in the same way that you can find different regional accents of English when traveling across England... If we put aside the accents of Jews returning to Israel, and instead we look at the accents of Jews born in Israel, the ones born into speaking modern Hebrew, there's a myth of a Jerusalem accent. I say myth, because you'll hear all over Israel people swearing, that Jerusalemites pronounce a few words differently. The most common example is the word 'mataim' (which means two hundred), and many Israelis insist Jerusalemites pronounce it ma'ataim, with the first vowel prolonged and emphasized. I have lived in Jerusalem since 2002 and I have never heard it. I think in this sense, regional accents are usually, at least in part, a product of geography. It determines how far apart people live, how much they interact, how much they hear others speaking the same language as they do. The smaller a country, and the easier travel in it is, the fewer accents it's likely to produce. And I think that's the main reason why there aren't really accents in Israel (other than those of people who came to speak Hebrew as a second language), because it's a very small country, and because today, it's pretty easy to travel in it (you can cross it from the most northern point to the most southern one in slightly over 5 hours).

I hope that kind of answers it? Thank you for the kind words, I hope you're well, too! xoxox

#ask #anon ask #israel #hebrew #jewish history #jewish #jew #jews #jumblr #frumblr #native israeli #native history #cultural revival #language revival #native revival

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rotzaprachim · 11 months ago

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the Yiddish versus Hebrew discourse is dumb in many levels most notably that 99% of it happens in English. Imho Yiddish and Hebrew have been heavily repressed among US diaspora Jews by the English-obsessive and English-dominant culture of the us, which rarely comes into discussion, and for a cornucopia of complex reasons diaspora communities have failed to provide ACCESSIBLE, RELEVANT, and THOROUGH education in either Hebrew OR Yiddish to massive swathes of the community. (To say nothing of ladino, Arabics and judeoarabics (both plural), aramaics Persian and Russian, Spanish and Portuguese and so forth all of which are essential to Jewish history civilization and modernity.) in the U.S. context the cultural issues around Yiddish and Hebrew aren’t interchangeable but neither language has been given significant resources, space, or serious pedagogy to be accessible as a literary language or spoken mode of communication for millions of diaspora Jews

#Both Hebrew and Yiddish teaching and curricula need a massive overhaul imho

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alatismeni-theitsa · 4 months ago

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hello! i hope you’re having a wonderful day 💕 i wanted to ask if you know of, or have any literature or book recommendations that surround Ottoman Era Greece, The Revolution or the 19th century? i’ve been trying to find stuff but all that comes up is greek myth retellings it’s rather annoying 😭. if they have an english translated version that would also be superb! fiction or nonfiction i don’t mind, i’m just super keen to read and learn more about that era of Greek history many seem to overlook. Thank you so much! btw i love your blog so much.

Hello! Very sorry for being late to answer this but I was gathering books. While I have read historical articles and texts on the Revolution and the Ottoman period, they were in Greek. I will list here books I found in English, mostly by foreign authors. I checked them and they seem mostly fine (I usually try to avoid those with specific western agendas in the descriptions, and generally I am trying to show the most objective works. Please make sure to read more than one, so you can see multiple perspectives. I'm sure there will be biases here and there xD

Historical Books

Stories Of The Greek Nation - In Today's Language: (14th and 15th Volumes) - Paparrigopoulos Konstantinos (Also published by National Geographic in 2004)

The Greek world under Ottoman and Western Domination: 15th-19th centuries - Kitromelides Paschalis

Greece, The Hidden Centuries. Turkish Rule From The Fall Of Constantinople To Greek Independence - Brewer David

The Edinburgh History of the Greeks, 1453 to 1768: The Ottoman Empire - Molly Greene

Viewing The Morea: Land And People In The Late Medieval Peloponnese

Ottoman Cyprus: A Collection of Studies on History and Culture (Near and Middle East Monographs) - Matthias Kappler, Eftihios Gavriel

Ottoman Brothers: Muslims, Christians, and Jews in Early Twentieth-Century Palestine - Michelle U. Campos

Crypto Christianity And Crypto Christians In the Southern Balkans, Asia Minor and Cyprus - Athanasios Dimitrios (Protopresbyter)

Sephardi Lives: A Documentary History, 1700–1950 - Julia Phillips Cohen and Sarah Abrevaya Stein

A Jewish Voice From Ottoman Salonica: The Ladino Memoir Of Sa'adi Besalel A-Levi - Halevi Saadi Ben Betsanel

The History of Greece under Ottoman and Venetian Domination - George Finlay

Jewish Salonica: Between the Ottoman Empire and Modern Greece Devin E. Naar Stanford University Press

The Genocide Of The Ottoman Greeks - Studies On The State-Sponsored Campaign Of Extermination Of The Christians Of Asia Minor (1912-1922) And Its Aftermath: History, Law, Memory

The Greek Revolution

Ioannis Makrygiannis Memoirs (Makrygiannis is a Revolution Hero) Theodorou Kolokotroni Memoirs (Memoirs – Court Case) (Kolokotronis is a Revolution Hero)

Deligiannis: Memoirs - Deligiannis Kanellos (Deligiannis is a Revolution Hero)

The Greek Revolution - A Critical Dictionary - Kitromilides Paschalis, Tsoukalas Constantinos

Collective works: Stories Of The Greek Nation (Sixteenth Volume): Contemporary Hellenism From 1941 To The End Of The Century . (Publisher: Athens Publishing House)

Poems

The Cretan - Dionysios Solomos

The Free Besieged - Dionysios Solomos

Works by Rigas Feraios

Fiction

Imaret - In The Shadow Of The Clock - Yiannis Kalpouzos

Niove's Children - Tasos Athanasiades

Number 31328 - Elias Venezis (A true story in a literary style)

Bloodied Earth – Dido Sotiriou

Ottoman Odyssey: Travels Through A Lost Empire by Alev Scott

Please suggest more books if you have something in mind!

#suggestions #books #recommendations #answered

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fallingsatellive · 11 months ago

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Need everyone to understand something:

Yiddish and Ladino are older languages than Hebrew. There are centuries more culture, history, and identity associated with Yiddish and Ladino than there are with Hebrew.

Why? Because I'm not talking about biblical Hebrew. I'm talking about the Hebrew you will find on Google translate, and Duolingo, and road signs in Israel. When you try to learn Hebrew, this is what is taught. It is a modern invention. It was created in the early 20th century as a vehicle for zionist ideology and Jewish nationalism. Zionists wanted a unifying language that all Israeli Jews would speak to bolster a sense of national identity.

By the way, zionists fucking hated Yiddish in the 20th century. It was heavily suppressed in Israel and they sought to completely eradicate it. Yiddish was seen as an inherently diasporic language for a dispersed people, while Modern Hebrew in contrast was Strong and Good. It was officially discouraged by the government and banned in many places.

My choice to learn Yiddish is not just about de-assimilation and reconnecting with heritage. Yiddish is an endangered language, and it's not just because of the Shoah. Since 1948 Israel has been the #1 primary factor in driving Yiddish to extinction.

So with that being said,

פֿון טײַך ביזן ים, װעט פּאַלעסטינע פֿרײַ זײַן. זיי וועלן נישט גאַנווענען דעם קולטור. דייטשלאנד האט שוין געפרואווט. זיי האבן נישט געקענט. ישראל איז טריינג. זיי וועלן נישט. לעבן צו דער אַרבעט בונד!

#לערנען ייִדיש #jewish tag #doikayt tag

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mariacallous · 1 year ago

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Honey cake is a hallmark of Rosh Hashanah and the fall Jewish holidays — Ashkenazic honey cake, that is. But did you know there’s a Sephardic cake traditionally served for Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur break fast and during Sukkot? Like its Eastern European counterpart, tishpishti symbolizes wishes for a sweet new year and the fullness of life. The cake is also popular for Purim and adapted for Passover.

Semolina pastries and puddings have been made for centuries throughout the Mediterranean, North Africa and the Middle East. Tishpishti is traditionally made with fine semolina and soaked in a sweet syrup of sugar, honey or a mixture, but beyond these common elements, there are many variations in both the way tishpishti is made — such as nuts or no nuts, eggs or no eggs, flavored with lemon, orange or rose water — and even what it’s called according to different geographic and cultural roots. For example, in Egypt, it’s basboosah or baboussa, namora or namoura in Syria and shamali in Crete.

Tishpishti is perhaps the name most used and, as we know it today, the cake originated in Turkey. In the “Encyclopedia of Jewish Food,” Gil Marks explains that in Israel and for Jews from once-Ottoman Turkey, Greece and the Balkans, the name is probably a nonsense name from the Turkish “tez” (fast/quick) and “pişti” (plane/slope). Put together, it means “quickly done.” In Ladino it might also be called pispiti, tupishti and revani, which Joyce Goldstein in “Sephardic Flavors: Jewish Cooking of the Mediterranean” notes is named after a 16th century Turkish poet “who wrote about the delights of food.”

Many tishpishti recipes use eggs, including ones that instruct you to whip the whites separate from the yolks, a Sephardic contribution to tishpishti. This recipe, however, is based on a very old traditional way of making cakes from a thick dough without eggs. My concession to modernity is adding baking powder and soda, both 19th century products, to lessen the density of the cake. Using ground almonds instead of walnuts will result in a lighter colored cake, which is traditional at Rosh Hashanah to symbolize a bright new year. Tishpishti is delicious on its own or served with a spoonful of yogurt, labneh or whipped cream and a cup of mint tea or strong Turkish coffee.

Notes:

It is best to make the syrup ahead of time so it has time to cool, although you can choose to make it while the cake bakes, then refrigerate it to cool more quickly.

Tishpishti is best when left at room temperature for several hours or overnight so the syrup penetrates the cake.

Store wrapped at room temperature for two days or a week in the refrigerator. The cake can be well-wrapped and frozen for two months. Defrost and then refresh with some drizzles of warm syrup.

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sefaradweb · 3 months ago

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The Beginnings of Ladino Literature

En "The Beginnings of Ladino Literature: Moses Almosino and His Readers," Olga Borovaya presenta a Moses Almosino (1518-1580) como un destacado escritor sefardí otomano, conocido tanto en Europa como en el Imperio Otomano. Aunque sus obras en hebreo fueron valoradas, su literatura en ladino obtuvo una prominencia notable. Almosino se hizo conocido en Europa en 1638 cuando Jacob Cansino adaptó su obra en escritura latina, titulada "Extremos y grandezas de Constantinopla", para el Conde-Duque de Olivares en Madrid. Este texto alcanzó una amplia difusión y fue referenciado por historiadores como Joseph von Hammer y Eliakim Carmoly. Además, Almosino escribió "Rejimyento de la vida" y "Tratado de los sueños", que se imprimieron en Salónica en 1564 y se reeditieron en Ámsterdam en el siglo XVIII. A pesar de su fama, su literatura en ladino ha sido menos estudiada debido a la percepción errónea de que estaba escrita en castellano.

Borovaya señala que, aunque la literatura ladina suele considerarse originaria del siglo XVIII, los sefardíes otomanos publicaron obras vernáculas desde el siglo XVI. La percepción de que el ladino alcanzó su forma final en el siglo XVIII ha llevado a una marginalización de textos anteriores como los de Almosino. Elena Romero e Iacob Hassán clasificaron estos textos como español, contribuyendo a su exclusión de la literatura sefardí. Borovaya propone que toda la literatura producida en el Imperio Otomano desde el siglo XVI hasta mediados del XX debe ser considerada parte de la literatura ladina y destaca la necesidad de una nueva periodización para reconocer los múltiples estilos funcionales del ladino.

En su estudio, Borovaya también menciona que su obra anterior, "Modern Ladino Culture" (2011), y otros estudios se enfocaron en el desarrollo de la cultura impresa sefardí moderna desde el siglo XIX. La literatura ladina del siglo XVIII ha sido analizada principalmente por Matthias Lehmann, pero Borovaya busca llenar el vacío existente sobre el siglo XVI, investigando las obras de Almosino. Ella explora cómo Almosino dirigió sus escritos a los exconversos que, tras emigrar al Imperio Otomano, necesitaban educación judía antes de aprender hebreo. Este contexto educativo impulsó a Almosino a escribir en ladino sobre temas de ciencia, filosofía y teología.

El prólogo del libro examina la controversia sobre si los judíos ibéricos tenían un lenguaje propio antes de su expulsión en 1492. Aunque algunos académicos creen que hablaban dialectos locales similares a los de los cristianos, Borovaya sugiere que usaban un sociolecto más que un lenguaje separado. Los judíos en la Iberia del siglo XV hablaban varios dialectos como aragonés, catalán, portugués y castellano, y su capacidad para mantener el hebreo se vio afectada por las conversiones y la violencia antijudía. Pese a ello, continuaron produciendo textos literarios en dialectos vernáculos, utilizando tanto el alfabeto hebreo como el latino.

Borovaya también analiza la conversión forzada de judíos durante y después de la Disputa de Tortosa (1413-1414) y cómo muchos conversos continuaron practicando el judaísmo en secreto. La coexistencia entre conversos y judíos fue una característica común, aunque la Inquisición buscó separarlos. El siglo XV fue testigo de un intenso intercambio cultural e intelectual entre judíos y cristianos, con ejemplos como la Biblia de Alba (1422-1430), encargada por Don Luis de Guzmán, que incluyó comentarios rabínicos y elementos judíos.

El estudio concluye con una mención de Shem Tob ben Isaac Ardutiel (ca. 1290-1369), un autor judío destacado que escribió en lenguas ibero-romances. Su poema didáctico "Proverbios morales" y su tratado hebreo "Debate Between the Pen and the Scissors" reflejan la ambivalencia hacia el uso de lenguas vernáculas frente al hebreo.

En resumen, Borovaya argumenta que, a pesar de que los judíos ibéricos no dejaron una gran cantidad de escritos vernáculos, su producción literaria y glosarios muestran su compromiso intelectual con la cultura dominante y que, al emigrar, llevaron consigo tanto el idioma vernáculo como un vasto bagaje cultural.

Bibliografía: Borovaya, Olga. The Beginnings of Ladino Literature: Moses Almosnino and His Readers. Indiana University Press, 2017.

#judaísmo #judaism #jewish #judío #cultura judía

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fluffycloudprincess · 4 months ago

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I’m indigenous heligolandic Frisian and Nigerian and I love your account because I relate to so many of your posts. But I’m just wondering how you balance your identity yk? Cause I’m so proud to be heligolander because of how fiercely we fought for our island and I feel almost nothing in relation to my Nigerian side.

Sorry this took so long and sorry this is so long 💛💛💛💛💛

Honestly, I'm not sure I do balance my identity. I feel more like a pendulum swinging between extremes than an artist walking a tightrope. I go weeks and months hyperfixating and exploring my Forest Finn identity (as I did while making this account) and then weeks and months exploring what it means to be Ghanaian and a proud Pan-African.

I believe all things can and do coexist, and there will always be cultural similarities that help reunify a split self, but overall my brain is very dichotomous.However, to address the internal schism that multi-ethnic individuals experience, we must analyze the roots of the divide. I spent so long feeling there was an inherent internal divide due to cultural clash, but in actuality, that had little to do with my feelings. For me (and maybe for you, since we have a similar mix, which is very cool—it’s like meeting someone from an alternative universe in a TV show—I love it), the main issues stem from racism, language, and cultural clash.

Racism

"Hurt people hurt people." A part of me hates this phrase; it always felt like a cop-out, a half-apology whispered under someone's breath or a statement before a plea deal. It wasn't until I realized that unless I saw through this lens, I would never be able to reconcile my people who fought, whose homes were burned, who traveled through ice and tundra, who sang bear songs in the forest with my people who now call me a stranger, who poke and prod me like a piece of meat, asking questions they don't really care to have answered.

It still hurts when I go to my church (a Finnish church) and have to literally prove my ancestry at the doorstep, when I pronounce something wrong and they laugh, when I join an online group and get kicked out when they find out I'm not like them. It hurts because it doesn't make sense—how can my people, my motherland, reject me? "Hurt people hurt people" is the only thing that's gotten me through.

They have spent their lives being the prey and now, finally, they can be something else, someone else. They can become the hunter, so they take the chance—they pick up the spear and throw it at the easiest target.What they fail to understand is that by doing so, they have compromised themselves and only themselves. They have sided against our ancestors who bled, fought, and died to be recognized and to live free from the oppressors and xenophobes.

For me, being a Forest Finn means continuing to fight the battles of my ancestors and never compromising myself as some modern Forest Finns do. To do this, we must never reject who we are. Just as your ancestors fought fiercely for your land, so too must you fight fiercely for your place on it.

Language and Culture

Another reason for my internal schism is language. Forest Finns spoke Värmland Savonian, a dialect of another dialect of an already widely agreed hard language to learn (Finnish). Due to forced assimilation, most modern Forest Finns speak Swedish, or the few who migrated back either speak Finnish or (like me) English.

This disconnect only emphasizes the divide I already feel due to being a proud Ghanaian. Sometimes communities lend out faux acceptance if you minimize your identity—please don't do it. They are lying and trying to play mental tactics, as i said just as your ancestors fought fiercely for your land, so too must you fight fiercely for your place on it.

I'm awful at languages. I'm thinking of learning Twi, but languages are not my strong suit. I even tried learning Ladino and found it incredibly difficult.Not understanding languages makes maintaining community significantly harder. However, due to the racism and xenophobia in white ethnic minority groups, I no longer view this as a negative. Instead, I see it as my ancestors keeping me safe and not allowing racists to sully my connection with them.

Instead, I try to reconnect with Forest Finn ideas and philosophies that are timeless (great respect for the bear, respect for our ancestors, respect for the forest as our home and protector). I then draw parallels with traditional Ghanaian beliefs such as those found in Vodun (great respect for our ancestors, great respect for nature as our home and protector).

In this way, the body becomes a temple and a melting pot—a sanctified space for the merging and birth of a third culture, born from the union of two previously separated cultures.You said that you feel a strong connection to being Heligolander but less so to feeling Nigerian. There are myriad reasons this might be the case. For me, it was due to internalized anti-African sentiment, which I broke down when I saw others reframe being native African as indigenous, I also explored traditional spirituality, followed more West African TikTokers and influencers, and listened to moreq Afrobeats (I love Rema so much and his new album is a perfect display of resistance that we're seeing in our new generation, an out right refusal to allow others or ourselves to demonise our cultural traditions in the name of white western acceptance) and Afro-origin based music in general.

Nigeria has fought for its land and independence just as hard since the dawn of its creation as any other nation and I can say that we Ghanaians (as much as we love to bicker with you) are so proud when we see you win, because you have always been at the forefront of so many movements throughout time.

As a West African, I understand how our governments currently aid the interests of the West rather than the indigenous peoples (us). However, what's happening in our neighboring countries with the alliance of Sahel states (Niger, Burkina Faso, and Mali) and the riots in Kenya has empowered me and MANY others to become even more Pan-African, breaking down prior internalized thoughts and ideals.

It's funny, before I saw your message, I was thinking of pivoting this blog towards documenting my journey with Vodun, Pan-Africanism, and creating a space for an anti-colonial resistance group to form. But then I thought, "No, I can't. This blog is strictly Forest Finn." But I guess I need to take my own advice—this blog isn't just about being a Forest Finn; it's about the nuances of identity. So, thank you so much for asking this because it's honestly helped me align some of my ideas and musings that I've kept locked away.

Identity is never easy, especially when the world tells you your identity innately clashes. I hope I've managed to answer your question somewhat and hopefully helped a tiny bit. I'm always here to chat, and my inbox is always open. I'd love to hear more about both indigenous Heligolandic and Nigerian culture, especially since we have very parallel identities in that sense so if you have a blog about it I'd love to follow it or as i said I'd love to also just hear about your experiencs of both cultures. But if you'd prefer not to and this is the last we speak, then I wish you the absolute best and hope you find the balance you're looking for.

#frisian #indigenous #heligolander #sweden #nigeria #finland #finnskogen #forest finns #svedjefinnar #skogfinner #skogfinske #nomadic #ghana #ghanian #vodun #voodoo #ghana girl

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