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Presences Feminine Within Jewis-2016-3-6-2024
Presences Feminine Within Jewis-2016-3-6-2024
Presences Feminine Within Jewis-2016-3-6-2024
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Women, Gender, History
Claudine VASSAS
1 See the relevant chapters of the Old Testament. The French edition of the Old
Testament, published as La Bible, Ancien Testament, Paris, Gallimard, NRF,
Bibliothèque de la Pléiade, tome 1, 1956, edited by Edouard Dhorme, is prefaced
by an illuminating introduction.
2 For Rashi [1040-1105 CE] and Maimonides [fl. c. 1160- 1204 CE] women are only
“exempt”. It therefore seems that the transformation of this exemption into a
prohibition occurred over several centuries. Indeed the Talmudic texts are not in
agreement on this matter. According to some medieval sources, men and women
were not separated in the synagogue, but more often there was a space reserved for
women. At Carpentras it was almost subterranean, but elsewhere it was, in contrast,
at a very high level and set back, like the women’s gallery in the ancient Mellah of
Fez, situated beneath the rafters. A curtain or a wooden lattice might also separate
the women from the area reserved for men. In large synagogues with several levels,
the women’s place was most frequently “in the gallery”.
3 See the bibliography for the publications which have accompanied my research
since 1995.
4 On the presence of the Shekhinah during the Shabbat, see Ehrlich 1978;
Starobinski-Safran 2007. On the theme of the “eternal betrothed” and the
incarnation of the Shekhinah, in which Esther is one of the major figures, see
Fabre-Vassas 1995 and 2016. On the Shekhinah’s place in Kabbalism, refer to the
work of Charles Mopsik (in particular his introduction to Lettre sur la sainteté. La
relation de l’homme avec sa femme by Joseph de Hamadan, Lagrasse, Éditions Verdier,
1993: 45-46).
Women’s holiness
If the view is taken that “religion” is not confined merely to those
places where liturgical celebrations occur, but also permeates the most
ordinary family and social activities, through practices intimately linked
to domestic settings, then studying Jewish food becomes particularly
pertinent. Food must conform to the rules outlined in the biblical texts
and set down in the tractates of the Talmud. These, because they
extended to foodstuffs the purity rules which applied to the body,
brought food directly into the sphere of religion. 5 The intimacy
between food and religion is visibly enacted whenever there is a
celebration. In every household, each religious festival in the Jewish
calendar is accompanied by a meal consisting of obligatory dishes
directly linked to the founding stories which require them or which
derive from the texts themselves. As is well known, at the feast of
Purim, the book of Esther is read out in the synagogue. This tells the
story of Esther, who, on account of her beauty and because she had
hidden her true identity, became the wife of King Ahasuerus. She then
saved her people, who were threatened with extermination, with the
help of her uncle Mordecai, who foiled a plot concocted by the
perfidious Haman, the King’s favourite minister. In the end, Haman
was hanged on the gallows he had prepared for Mordecai. Every time
the reader of the Megillah – the scroll of Esther – utters the name of the
traitor, those present “kill Haman” by making a very loud din. This
ritual is repeated in the Yeshivot schools, where the pupils hang or burn
an effigy of Haman, and then at home, where students put on a play of
the punishment of Haman or tell the story in exchange for edible
treats, for a feast is prepared, echoing the banquets which occur
throughout the story. For these feasts, the body of the wicked minister
is “broken into pieces” and eaten as cakes and pastries – his ears, his
5 On the prohibitions relating to foodstuffs see Vassas 2006a. I shall not tackle the
issue of the Kashrut in this article.
fingers, his moustache, his eyes, etc. – alongside other dishes equally
linked to the characters in the story and prepared by the women, who
organize the customary activities and who are duty-bound that day to
hear or to read the Megillah. It is through them too, and through their
adherence to the Bible which commands remembrance (zakhor), that
the memory of these events is transmitted.
There is a similar intimacy between Pesach (Passover) and the seder
meal, which is the occasion for an unchangeable ritual. Alongside the
obligatory reading of the Haggadah, the famous account of the exodus
from Egypt, it involves the youngest child of the family asking
questions about each of the foodstuffs served on the table that day,
which represent events and objects recalling the captivity of the
chosen people and their exodus under Moses’ leadership. This
occasion for convivial sharing, organized by the women, switching as
it does back and forth between the Bible and the consumption of
appropriate dishes, becomes, by its respect for ritual in consuming
food, the occasion for a celebration within a private house that is fully
in accordance with the liturgy of the synagogue. Whilst the text,
entering into, and being read within, the house, takes on a
“customary” aspect, the foodstuffs which accompany, illustrate and
extend it take on the characteristics of rites textuels (text-based rituals)
utilized within a liturgy of remembrance. 6
The case of Marranism in Portugal, where the organization of an
entirely domestic religious practice is entrusted to women, provides an
exemplary instance. A community of Marranos was discovered still
living in Belmonte in northern Portugal by Samuel Schwartz at the
beginning of the twentieth century. The ethnographical study he
devoted to them, as well as the evidence provided by the trials of the
conversos who had emigrated to the New World, which Nathan Wachtel
has analysed, revealed a devotion to “Saint Moses” and “Saint Esther”,
modelled on Christian worship of the Virgin and the saints. This cult
linked the two Old Testament figures to each other: thus a woman
appearing before a Tribunal of the Inquisition in Rio de Janeiro in
1718, described Moses as “the son of Queen Esther”. 7 This mysterious
attribution of descent has become more comprehensible as a result of
the discovery of the Marranos of Belmonte. In 1988, Frédéric Brenner
filmed a ceremony that brought together in one single ritual the
remembrance of the foundational events of their history. It recorded
men and women assembled in a house with closed doors, all similarly
dressed in long white garments and with white head-coverings, all
jointly kneading dough and cooking “holy” unleavened bread. Asked
“what are you celebrating?” the woman who was leading them in
reciting prayers, and who was the first to sing the hymns which
accompanied the baking, replied as follows:
The exodus from Egypt and the arrival in the Holy Land... The exodus
from Egypt was at the time of the Inquisition. The people were driven
out of Egypt and went to the Holy Land. That is what I have been told.
The people arrived and held a festival. And the Holy and Blessed Queen
Esther demanded that her people should not be killed, and they were
not, and the people held a festival and that became the holy festival.
There, that’s all. 8
Marranism, itself a religion vowed to secrecy, thus made a woman
who had hidden her identity into a tutelary icon venerated by a strict
respect for the “Ayunos de la Reyna Esther”, the concealed fasting
9 On the reiteration of the covenant with Israel enacted by the Shabbat, following
the example of marital connection, see Gross 2015, especially the chapter entitled
“L’accueil du Shabbat, la fiancée et la reine” [Welcoming the Shabbat, the betrothed
and the queen] p. 111-125.
10 Mopsik 2003.
(who are protected from Gehenna by their study of the Torah) may,
because of their sins, pass through the cycle of reincarnations (gilgul) to
achieve “purification”, and may therefore be reincarnated in the bodies
of women. This temporary cohabitation of two souls (one from
someone who has died and one from a living person) in one body has
come to be called dybbuk in Judaism. 11 However, it can be that, without
there being any punitive aspect to it, the soul of a dead woman
“returns” into the soul of a living woman and unites with it in order to
endow it with “sparks of new souls”. This possible fertilization of souls
between themselves which the Kabbalists call ‘ibour (impregnation/
pregnancy) seems to be applicable only to women, but to such an
extent that it is cited as the explanation for the conversion of infertility
into fertility in some women. For that to occur, at the moment of
union between the human partners – between a man and a wife who is
“masculine” because of a deficit in the feminine element – a female
soul must descend to the wife through the “miracle and secret of
‘ibour” and through her participation supply the element that is missing
for fertilization. 12
I read this work several years after having studied the episode,
narrated in the book of Genesis, of Jacob’s marriage to two sisters, of
whom one, Rachel, was infertile and the other, Leah, was fertile. I
immediately remembered the stratagems they deployed between
themselves, and with the help of two younger servant girls, to gain
the fertility that was missing in the one case and diminished in the
other. The episode when they make use of their servants as surrogate
mothers may be the first instance of assisted conception stricto sensu,
but it seems to me that a close reading of the methods utilized by
11 On the dybbuk see Fabre-Vassas 2006b. On the basis of a corpus of ancient and
modern stories, I showed how these tales effect a sexed division of roles. More
generally they induce consideration of the categories “male” and “female”, of the
qualities attributed to these concepts, their limits or their ability to acquire a sort
of transcendence through taking on other or multiple identities.
12 Mopsik 2003, chapter “La femme masculine” [The masculine woman]. Indeed,
this phenomenon is alleged to have occurred in the case of the temporary
barrenness with which the wife of Joseph Karo, a master of the Kabbalah in
Safed, was afflicted on account of her “masculine” soul, which was corrected
by just such a miracle.
Rachel and Leah tells us about more than just this simple expedient.
They engaged in a circular transmission and dual exchanges intended
to cause a “fertile principle” to circulate amongst the four women, a
principle which had previously been blocked or immobilized by one
of them, and then to share it in a supposedly equitable way. This
interplay was based on the idea that female bodies can be open to
each other and porous and on the idea of a capacity for sexual
generation enhanced by forces of desire and longing. 13
Returning to Mopsik’s text and the argument he defends, we may
conclude, from what has just been said, that in this thought system,
“masculine and feminine transcend the social identification of sexual
difference”. Does this, however, fill the gap, and answer the question
raised by women, and modern women in particular? That is whether
there is, in Judaism, any acknowledgement, whether or not it has any
practical consequences, of the lack of congruence between the place
which is actually granted to women as social beings and the place
which is accorded to the “the feminine” as a value, a component of
religious life and of the sacred, indeed of the divine. 14
Even if, as Charles Mopsik shows, in Kabbalism, “masculine” and
“feminine” carry equal values which may combine without the
intervention of a “differential valency of the sexes”, 15 this has no
impact on everyday Jewish life. There, as in so many other religions,
there was, long ago, a shift in the balance between the two halves of
humankind, from a horizontal plane to a vertical one. The difference
between the two has been maintained by attaching to each of them
primary characteristics from which, in an always hierarchical manner,
their specific roles and functions are derived.
13 See Fabre-Vassas 2001 for this power which, according to a midrash, is said to
have allowed the two sisters who were both pregnant at the same time – Leah of
a male child and Rachel of a female child - to “exchange” their embryos in utero.
This is how Rachel gave birth to Joseph and Leah to Dinah.
14 It does not, however, seem that in the corpus of fundamental texts surveyed so
far, any one of them emanates from a woman, even if Kabbalistic mysticism
does accord an essential role to the feminine component on which Charles
Mopsik insists.
15 This is the term Françoise Héritier coined to describe the relationship between
men and women.
16 Translator’s note: translation from the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible.
17 Claude Lévi-Strauss tried to unravel the mystery of these two verses, regarding
his attempt as a “game”, and using the comparative method, so as to undertake a
parallel analysis of the Bororo people’s ritual of the bestowal of a penis sheath
(see Lévi-Strauss 1988). I have learnt that Jean-Christophe Attias has recently
published a “biography” of Moses – Moïse fragile (Éditions Alma 2015) which
assigns an important place to the action, and hence to the character of Zipporah.
18 Zborowski & Herzog (1992) devote some fine pages to how boys are taught the
Torah, and the associated rituals (p. 85, 103 and 193), as also to the linkage
between marriage and the Torah (p. 256-270). See also Baumgarten 1993. The
achievement of an ideal couple – a poor student intending to study and a
wealthier girl whose family could support her – was considered a mitzvah (a good
deed), to which the families might make a mutual commitment even before the
birth of their children. Since in any case marriages were organized when the
partners were still very young (but considered adult after physiological puberty in
the case of girls and for boys after the bar mitzvah ritual at the age or 12 or 13) it
could happen that the marriage contract set out the actual terms of this support
by the girl’s family.
19 And it is, of course, according to the numerous tractates which discuss them,
associated with failure to comply with the purity rules. For one of the most
rigorous examples, I would mention Evyatar Marienberg’s study of the Baraita de-
Niddah, a pseudo-Talmudic text from the fifth century CE on the rules around
menstruation, which, however, had a long-lasting impact (Marienberg 2012: 70-
71). It says “we may observe that the prayers of the matriarchs were immediately
granted when they kept the laws of niddah” (citing Sarah, Rachel, Leah...). The
author points out that the word niddah comes from two roots meaning
“rejection” and “expulsion”.
20 The lack of children authorizes the husband, according to Jewish law, to
“repudiate” his wife by giving her the get (divorce document). Women are
23 For further discussion of Rachel see Fabre-Vassas 2000. The ritual is described
by Gershom Scholem (Scholem 1966 [1960]: 156-169) and by Moshe Idel (Idel
1998: 308ff).
24 See Claudine Fabre-Vassas 1995. Emmanuela Trevisan Semi shows how the
identification between the Torah and either a female body (wife or betrothed) or
a male one (man or child) provided the Israeli writer Shemuel Yosef Agnon with
the plot for this story.
25 Patricia Hidiroglu notes the parallel with the seven days of abstinence from
sexual relations with her husband following a woman’s menstruation. In her
Chapter IV (Sens commun et interprétations – Common sense and interpretations)
she examines the meanings attached to it (ranging from a psychoanalytical
reading to the use of a notion of “sacrifice”) and considers them alongside those
offered by her interlocutors (traditional practitioners and parents of circumcised
children), She shows that, while no approach rules out the others, there are no
grounds for preferring one meaning over the other. Nowadays, for people who
continue the practice of circumcision, the aspect of “identity” is more important
than the religious aspect (Hidiroglu 1997).
26 This red thread embroidery [in double running (Holbein) stitch] usually depicts a
stylised pattern of flowers and a text. See Klagsbald 1981: Mappah 128.
The cloth is then unfolded and wrapped around one of the Sacred
Scrolls in a way that ensures close contact with it. The cloth will serve
as its cover – some people do indeed say its “swaddling cloth” – until
the boy, who has now come of age, is invited to “go up to the Torah”
on the day of his bar mitzvah, and solemnly unwraps the cloth and
reads aloud the message from his mother before continuing with the
ceremony which makes him a “betrothed of the Torah”. 27
It would seem therefore that this contribution to the ritual by
women, which is a de facto sign of their belonging to Judaism, ensuring
that their inclusion within Judaism is transmitted between themselves
without the need for any ritual to “make them Jewish” – the direct
contact of this blood with the scroll of the Torah, with its
“nakedness”, and the blood’s contiguity to the scroll without any loss
of the scroll’s “holiness” – all of these testify to women’s belonging,
to their own blood’s belonging, to the same manifestation of the
sacred, and thus to its essential “impurity”.
What are we, then, to make of women, given that they are exempt
from the study of the Torah as a very consequence of their natural
identity? Perhaps we should see the fact that Jewish identity is
transmitted by women, to women, by blood, as a unique trait. Might
they be the carriers of the very essence of Judaism, without needing
rituals to constitute, enhance and maintain their identity?
We only need examine the way in which conversions to Judaism are
performed. In cases where a male Jew who had left the faith wished to
return to it (as might occur with a converso in sixteenth-century Spain),
since it was not possible to undertake a new circumcision, his nails and
27 The way in which a mappah (still called a Wimpel Torah – Torah’s swaddling cloth)
may be handed over to the synagogue can vary. There is an extensive
ethnographical description of the ritual and the customs in the study by Patricia
Hidiroglou (1997). She devotes a chapter to this, entitled “Gift of the Mappah
(circumcision cloth)” (p. 139-171), accompanied by illustrations (between pages
192-193) and by a catalogue of mappot identified in the archives of the
Association consistoriale israélite de Paris (ACIP) (p. 279-291). Under the
heading “mappoth” encyclopaedias of Judaism describe this custom and reproduce
the embroidery motifs, as do books on folk art. Two fine examples are illustrated
in the study by Freddy Raphael and Robert Weyl on the Jews of Alsace (Raphael
& Weyl 1977).
his hair were cut very short. This is why, in Provence, those who had
undergone this procedure were known as “retalhat” [i.e. “cut again”]. A
woman merely needed to immerse herself completely in the mikveh
(ritual bath) to become, or return to being, a Jew.
This affinity which I am suggesting exists between femininity and
naturalized Jewishness was maintained within Christianity. A woman
who had given birth had to wait forty days before she could be
reintegrated into the church by means of a ritual (churching) which
was later abolished because it was felt to be humiliating. However,
just as by the blood of the birth she renewed her link with an inborn
Jewishness, in the same way the child might be considered a “little
Jew” until baptism. 28
Following this line of argument it appears that, as the carrier of an
identity which she transmits to her female children, a woman has no
need of rituals, whereas a boy has to undergo them repeatedly. 29 If
she already possesses the knowledge, the intrinsic skill, of the Torah,
she does not need to learn it over again. Of course this is an
unacceptable extrapolation, but it could exist, at least implicitly,
because some rabbis seem to have responded precisely to it by
insisting, against the general opinion, on the need for women to be
taught the Torah.
28 And sometime even until the child’s first communion. I discussed this in
chapter 5 of Fabre-Vassas 1993.
29 On this point the contribution of Riccardo Di Segni (1989) concerning the
matrilineal transmission of Jewishness is crucial.
32 On the various translations made at the same time and the massive distribution
of the Torah and the book of Esther, see Baumgarten 1993: 141, 200-214 and
351. Moreover works written by women for women were so successful that a
number of male authors used female pseudonyms. It is therefore difficult to
know exactly what the proportions of women were. See Fabre-Vassas 1995.
opened and the great “sefer Torah” appear. Each scroll is royally dressed
in a heavy red or blue cloak embroidered with gold thread, crowned
with a double coronet embellished with little bells, and adorned with a
silver pendant on a chain. The men who can grasp them hold them in
an embrace as if they were a full-size (woman’s) body and immediately
start to dance with them. Those who have not been able to take hold
of one crowd round them, as if pulled into the circle of the dance, and
try to touch them as they go by. Meanwhile the women, who, up in the
gallery, have all stood up together as soon as the scrolls appeared,
stretch out their hands towards all these splendours, then touch their
hands to their faces and press them against their eyes in a gesture of
deep devotion. Some of the women weep, all the more overcome by
emotion because they cannot approach the Torah or touch it and may,
according to the customary law, only enter the synagogue if they are
sure that they are not “impure”. Maimonides, however, in his treatise
Sefer Ahavah about the rules and precautions surrounding the Torah,
sets out the criteria under which a scroll could lose its status. He
maintains that “any impure person, even [a woman in] a niddah state or
a gentile, may hold a Torah scroll and read it. The words of Torah do
not contract ritual impurity.” 33 All that is required, he explains, is that
they wash their hands.
Although nothing in the texts of the law justifies such rigour, the
maxim that women must be kept away is stated, repeated and
respected like a real prohibition, in spite of modern developments.
Women’s current claims to the same rights as men meet with
resistance in the name of the venerable tradition which unites every
Jewish man to the Torah. The very popular work Shulchan Aruch
asserts that every man, in his devotion to the Torah, repeats and
strengthens the first covenant of the people of Israel, which was
celebrated through the mediation of Moses “under the chuppah of
Mount Sinai”. 34 Moreover in this work anyone who abandons the
33 See Maimonides Mishneh Torah, book Sefer Ahavah. Translator’s note: Sefer Ahavah
Chapter 10 paragraph 8. English text from
http://www.chabadoceandrive.com/library/article_cdo/aid/925432/jewish/Tef
illin-Mezuzah-and-Sefer-Torah-Chapter-Ten.htm.
34 The Shulchan Aruch is a four volume work by Joseph Karo which examines the
Multiple femininities
A conflict thus exists around everything related to the place of
women in the public sphere; their visibility, their access to worship, to
study, and to the offices which stem from them, including the
rabbinate, linked as it is to training in Hebrew, but also the right to be
a shohet (a ritual slaughterer) or a mohel ( a circumciser). 36
Over the last forty years, women’s claims to this place have had
some impact on Judaism in general, with the outcome varying
according to the branch of Judaism involved (liberal or orthodox). 37
The conflict is being waged on several fronts, and in particular for
ritual “parity”. This involves, for example, the creation of the bat
mitzvah for girls along the lines of the bar mitzvah for boys, and also
the right to embrace the scrolls of the Torah and dance with them on
the day of their festival, the right to put on the tallit (prayer shawl)
and to surround oneself with texts by wearing the tefilim as men do.
However, even within liberal Judaism, some young couples have
trouble in admitting that a woman may “touch the Torah or wear a
talit or tefilim”, which is a crucial point in the light of all that has been
said above.
rules which govern daily life. It was printed in Venice in the sixteenth century.
An abbreviated text is known and translated into French as “La Table dressée”.
Translator’s note: although the work is known in English as “The Prepared
Table” no English translation seems to exist.
35 See also the contribution “Torah and children: symbolic aspects of the
reproduction of Jews and Judaism” in Goldberg 1987, p. 107-132.
36 Several entries under these headings in Bebe 2001 deal with these various points.
37 I shall not discuss the different branches of Judaism in detail. Despite their
differences they take similar approaches to the growing role and position of
women in religious life. See Tank-Storper 2015. Some women, asserting their
allegiance to Judaism even while insisting upon their lay status, are actually
forming study groups along the lines of the male religious beth midrash.
38 On this point see Storper-Perez & Goldberg 1989, photos by Frédéric Brenner.
39 Ibid. It seems as if their demands may have produced a result. Following a vote in
their favour in January 2016, the Israeli government has undertaken to install a
mixed space in the area, which was previously divided into two separate parts by
the ultra-orthodox, who had a monopoly of control there.
they are pressing for a re-evaluation of their roles and functions. They
cite the matriarchs and female prophets, including Sarah, Miriam,
Deborah, Hannah, Abigail, Huldah and Esther, the latest in date... 40
Indeed, even the fleeting figure of Zipporah, whom we met at the
start of this article, has been invoked when women demand their
right to the office of mohel. They advance the argument that she was
one of the first circumcisers mentioned in the Bible. 41
I have myself discussed some of them in my publications: Rachel,
Leah and Esther. Their aspirations, their initiatives, their choices, which
thwarted the fate for which they were destined, have led me, alongside
committed feminist scholars who had initially considered them
“subversive” or “branded by the seal of illegitimacy”, to recognize in
these biblical women “figures of desire” asserting themselves against
the divine project and liberating themselves from the male paradigm. 42
This article has therefore also been chiefly concerned with “female
religious life”, and with a possible convergence between approaches
which do not a priori derive from a shared endeavour.
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41 According to Bebe 2001: 392-396, under the heading Tsippora.
42 According to Rojtman 2001: 48 which picks up and extends the discussion in her
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