Editor’s Note: Written prior to events in Israel, Hoffman now adds:
Please stand with Israel, the land that symbolizes the enduring strength and the promise of a safe home for the Jewish people, persecuted through the centuries and today. The land whose national anthem – ‘Hatikvah’ – literally means ‘HOPE’ – the hope to be free in our own home. Let us learn from history’s darkest moments and strive for a near future where EVERY child, regardless of their nationality, background, race or faith, can grow up without hunger or fear. Where EVERY human being can pursue their greatest dreams and fulfill their highest potential destiny.
Together, we can create a world where justice prevails, love triumphs over hatred, where acceptance vanquishes prejudice and where peace prevails over war. I still believe in the power of unity and love, and I hope you will too. In a world where so much hatred still lingers, let us unite to protect the dream of a peaceful coexistence. Not only for Jews in Israel and around the world, but for all human beings on our fragile planet regardless of race, faith or gender. When all is said and done, all we have is each other.
With Hoffman’s message in mind, we should magnify our efforts to preserve the languages, cultures and traditions that have made our diverse world so memorable, including Yiddish.
Yiddish is more than one thousand years old. It was spoken by millions of Jews all around the world, as I am constantly reminded by the author of the 700 page textbook Key to Yiddish – my mother Miriam – who was Professor of Yiddish language and culture at Columbia University for 25 years. Yiddish was a thriving language in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, especially in Europe/Eastern Europe and Russia. The European centers of Yiddishkayt gave us a treasure trove of literature, music and theatre which, after migrating to the USA in the late 19th century, were responsible for the thriving Yiddish life of New York’s Lower East Side. In the USA, before WWII, Yiddish and ‘Yinglish’ were dominant forces in the culture. Dozens of newspapers and theaters, run by many strong-willed individuals, gave the immigrants a means by which they could understand the new ‘Golden Land’ and begin to slowly assimilate and lose their Yiddish identity in the famous All American ‘Melting Pot’. The enduring legacy of Yiddish Second Avenue can be found in many of today’s world cultural expressions – from the labor movement, to the Catskills, to Broadway, to Tin Pan Alley, to comedy and Hollywood. The influence of Yiddish is undeniable.
And yet, “J’Accuse…!”
I accuse the world leadership of the entire Jewish community in the 20th, and now the 21st century of actually contributing to and hastening the demise of Yiddish culture – in some cases purposefully, in others by sheer apathy and neglect. I am not suggesting that the problem lies with any one person or organization. My contention is that the problem is much more fundamental than that.
Let me begin with full disclosure. My family and I have been closely associated with Yiddish language and culture all our lives. My father, Mendl Hoffman (z’l), was a Survivor of the Auschwitz concentration camp. He dedicated long hours, days, months and years to sustaining the preservation of the remnants of Eastern European Jewish culture that had miraculously survived the Nazis, and was powerfully expressed in the Yiddish language and the concepts of ‘Yiddishkayt’: social justice, education, freedom, creativity and acceptance, to name just a few.
So where’s the crime?
The Holocaust decimated and halved the Yiddish speaking population of Europe.
Six million murdered Jews carried their Yiddish culture with them to the crematorium. Had they all survived, thrived and multiplied, imagine how many more millions of Yiddish speaking Jews would be in the world today. The Holocaust will always qualify as the greatest crime against humanity, but as the Jewish world attempted to recover, the world of Yiddish began to suffer.
Yiddish was thriving culturally well into the war years, but after the Holocaust, American Jewish leaders saw Yiddish as a language of victimization. Returning survivors were told not to speak about their experiences, and definitely not to speak that ‘dying language’. Immigrant American Jews often spoke Yiddish when they didn’t want their children to understand to ensure their assimilation and perhaps their safety from overt antisemitism. This was an enormous blow as thousands of global Yiddish schools were shut down and the breadth and depth of the culture was swept under the rug, and ignored. Only a small group of dedicated Yiddishists, some of whom are still active today, kept the dying flame lit.
Ironically, the nearly fatal attack on Yiddish was actually the miraculous creation of the State of Israel in 1948. This momentous occasion in Jewish history was a joyous celebration of the eternal survival of the Jewish people, and the creation of an eternal home for those who had been chased and persecuted throughout history. Hatikvah – the ‘hope’ of our people to return to Eretz Zion and Yerushalayim – had come true. ‘Next Year in Jerusalem’, our prayer for freedom through the centuries, had finally become a reality.
The consequences to Yiddish, however, could not have been more destructive. Suddenly the entire Jewish world became Hebrew-centric. Yiddish was exorcized from the vernacular, from the curricula, from the living world. Relegated to old European refugees and survivors and some of their children, including myself, the rich Yiddish culture was lost to mainstream Judaism in less than two generations. The language that gave us Sholem Aleichem (the basis for Fiddler on the Roof), Y.L. Peretz (Oyb Nisht Nokh Hekher), Chaim Grade (My Quarrel with Hersh Rasayner) and Isaac Bashevis Singer (Nobel Prize for Literature) was now considered obsolete and taboo by all but a few dedicated ‘Yiddishists’. Local Yiddish theatre was actually banned by the Government of Israel.
A document shown to me by Shmuel Atzmon, former director of the Yiddishpiel (National Yiddish Theatre of Israel), proves that in 1951 Yiddish theatre was banned for all local Israeli theaters – no Yiddish theatre was permitted by local Israeli artists. Only Yiddish performers from outside the country were allowed.
Meanwhile in the USA, Yiddish organizations – es-pecially those active in the performing arts – were neglected and left to their own resources. To this day I am dismayed at how many were left with no funding and virtually no support system.
And yet Yiddish thrives… Consider the recent success of the Yiddish Fiddler on the Roof production in NY, the multiple award winning TV shows like Shtisl and Unorthodox, and Yiddish films like Shehita and Boxed. Having performed as Willy Loman in the highly acclaimed New York Yiddish production of Death of a Salesman, I am stunned by the parallels between Willy’s demise and the near death experiences of Yiddish.
Iz es beser tzu leybn un mutchn zikh far gornisht?
Is it better to live and destroy yourself for nothing? This is the final lament of Willy, as he decides that death is preferable to this life; that with his demise, he is doing the noble thing for his family and the world.
This profound concept makes me think about the Yiddish language in general and Yiddish theatre in particular, which have been ‘dying’ for centuries. This 1000+ year-old language that has given the world some of its greatest writers, playwrights, poets and composers, and a culture which survived the devastations of Stalin and Hitler has found itself orphaned and abandoned by the very people who claimed to care for it. The Yiddish world, which helped create the labor unions, the thriving theatre community, the worlds of film, music and comedy, now finds itself alone and forsaken like so many of our elderly, not to mention the destitute Holocaust survivors around the world. Death of a Salesman in Yiddish received no support from the mainstream Jewish or theatre institutions, but the production company of dedicated actors, designers, directors and staff were on a mission to uphold a tradition that, like the Yiddish language itself, refuses to die.
As I contemplate these matters, I am enlightened by the realization that in our society today we celebrate ‘Super Heroes’ – those with superpowers that will save us from the ‘evils’ surrounding us. My revelation is that I already possess the greatest ‘SuperPower’ of all – I can speak Yiddish, the exalted language of ‘survival’. Just as Yiddish has been prophesied to die for the vast majority of its existence, and yet survives and thrives, so have I been given the ability to endure the hardships that have challenged my life in preserving this beautiful language: to wake up every morning and see the possibilities that present themselves to protect this treasured culture. I am encouraged by the worldwide renaissance of Yiddish and Yiddishkayt in the 21st century, as evidenced by the many sold-out performances, and virtual participation of millions worldwide, of global Yiddish/Yiddishkayt events. We Jews have eternal hope… And Zoom.
Perhaps, with Mazl, Yiddish will continue to thrive in the face of overt rising antisemitism and organizational leader’s apathy. Perhaps all those who appreciate ‘Yiddishkayt’ today will support the organizations whose missions include protecting, preserving and presenting our ‘Super Power’ – Yiddish.
CEO of Yiddishkayt Initiative, Inc.
Member SDC, AEA, SAG/Aftra, 2016 - The Bronx Jewish Hall of Fame Inductee, 2015 - NY Drama Desk Award - Nominated Best Actor in a Play, Winner: Los Angeles Ovation Award '01, Performer of the Year '95 / NY Press Magazine, Winner: 2012 Carbonell Award - Best Supporting Actor (Musical) - Hairspray
- Yiddish Is My ‘Super Power’ – by Avi Hoffman - October 14, 2023