|
|
Page | 11/14 | Date | 07.02.2018 | Size | 1.89 Mb. | | #40066 |
|
this highly intelligent and devoted man who was clearly intent on repairing
the world around him. She was also impressed with Bernard’s level
of religious observance. After being surrounded by the highly assimilated
young Jewish men she encountered at NYU, meeting a serious, knowledgeable
and committed Jew like Bernard was like a breath of fresh air.
Bernard proposed marriage and Sarah agreed to meet him under the chupah
of marital unity.
The wedding date was set for Monday, November 1, 1948. The following
day, the politician who had been the most instrumental in implementing
the panoply of social programs that Bernard had been advocating
over the past four years, Governor Thomas E. Dewey, was defeated in his
bid for the presidency in an upset victory carried out by President Harry S
Truman. A new era had surely begun.
71
Chapter eight
New Horizons
Your eyes shall behold a land stretching afar.
—Isaiah 33:17
It was the first day of November 1948, and the well-trained catering
staff of the Riverside Plaza Hotel was busy readying the main hall for
a traditional Jewish wedding celebration. The venerable establishment,
located on Manhattan’s West 71st Street, had hosted many such
simchas (celebrations) in its day, but there was something unusual going
on at the Lander / Shragowitz nuptials. In the wedding invitations that
Bernard and Sarah had sent out, the ceremony time was listed as 5:30 pm.
At exactly half past five a distinguished Columbia University professor,
Dr. Robert McIver, had entered the hall, peering about expectantly. He
was soon followed by a contingent of other academic and political types,
all looking a bit mystified. Bernard’s non-Jewish Columbia colleagues
and Mayor’s Committee members were evidently unfamiliar with J.S.T.,
Jewish Standard Time, which typically added at least fifteen minutes to
any scheduled appointment time. Over the next half hour guests began
filing in steadily and by 6 pm the hall was filled with a diverse and potent
blend of personalities from all quarters of Bernard and Sarah’s lives.
The interfaith and inter-racial guest list included Lander, Shragowitz
and Koenigsberg family members, Mayor’s Committee members and
city officials, learned Yeshiva scholars, Urban League leaders, congregants
from Beth Jacob in Baltimore, RIETS professors, researchers from
Columbia and BASR, NYU classmates and faculty members, childhood
friends, and many more.
The non-Jewish guests, many of them attending an Orthodox wedding
for the first time, were easily swept into the atmosphere of the evening
at the Kabbalas Panim (bride’s reception) and the groom’s tisch (literally:
table) as they observed the signing of the K’tubah (wedding contract)
72 The Lander Legacy
and the ceremonial breaking of the wedding plate. All guests came away
with a new or renewed appreciation for the warm Jewish spirit, or Yiddishkeit,
that permeated the event.
Rabbi Aharon Kotler, the same respected rabbi who had married
Sarah’s parents some twenty-five years earlier in Kletsk, and a relative of
Sarah’s family, officiated under the chupah. As a custom and a courtesy,
any other rabbis in attendance were invited to stand alongside the couple
during the wedding ceremony. In all, nine rabbis crowded under the
chupah as the bride circled the groom seven times and the Sheva Brachos
(seven blessings) were recited. Such honors were bestowed upon one of the
Roshei Yeshiva (heads) of RIETS, Rabbi Dovid Lifshitz, as well as Rabbi
Samuel Sar and Rabbi Joseph Lookstein from the Yeshiva faculty. Sarah’s
grandfather, Rabbi Joseph Shragowitz, from Fitchberg, Massachusetts and
her sister Bessie’s husband, Rabbi Aaron Kra, the rabbi in Ansonia, Connecticut,
were also so honored, as were Bernard’s brother, Rabbi Nathan
Lander; his cousin, Rabbi Herschel Koenigsberg; and his brother-in-law,
Rabbi Max Posnansky.
As custom dictated, a wineglass wrapped in a cloth napkin was placed
under Bernard’s foot at the conclusion of the ceremony. The popping
sound that arose as his foot came down—a perpetual reminder of the
destruction of the ancient Temple in Jerusalem—was met with cheers and
shouts of “Mazel Tov” and “Siman Tov” as the gathered guests pelted the
newlyweds with a shower of candy. Some of the honored dignitaries in
attendance who were introduced during the Simchas Chasan v’Kallah (the
wedding feast) included leaders of the American Mizrachi Organization
such as its president, Pinkhos Churgin; Dr. David Petergorsky, executive
director of the American Jewish Congress; Isaiah Minkoff, executive director
of the National Community Relations Advisory Council; and Rabbi
Ahron Soloveichik.
As Bernard Lander scanned the long tables filled with family and
friends from his seat of honor at the head table beside his beautiful young
bride, he felt supremely blessed and fortunate. At the same time, he could
not suppress a feeling of urgency. He felt an insurmountable impetus
to move ahead and pursue both his personal and professional destinies.
While he understood that a new chapter of his life had been opened, he
was unsure where life’s road would lead him. His only certainty was that
from this point on, he would no longer be traversing that road alone.
New Horizons 73
As Rabbi Lander pondered his life’s path, he sensed that his destiny
would take him beyond New York’s five boroughs and out into the larger
world. He recalled how, in recent years, he had already stretched his horizons
and had begun to act on a global stage. In January 1946, at the behest
of the American Jewish Committee, he had travelled to Mexico City. The
group had established a local agency there to combat anti-Semitism, and
Lander was asked to examine and report objectively on its effectiveness.
He remained in Mexico well into February as he conducted an in-depth
investigation of the fascist forces at work in the capital and throughout the
nation. As he conducted interviews with community leaders, local politicians
and U.S. embassy staff members, Lander soon learned of a strong
and sinister force known as the Sinarquista.
The Sinarquista was an outlawed fascist political organization that
promoted synarchy, a structured hierarchical social order intended to transcend
conflict between economic classes through an ideology known as
synarchism. Synarchism was born as a reaction to the pro-anarchy political
movements popular during the late nineteenth century, but the term had
now come to serve as a euphemistic code word for fascist and anti-communist
ideologies. The Sinarquista, active in Mexico since the mid-1930s
as an extension of the Roman Catholic extreme right, was violently opposed
to the populist and secularist policies of the ruling Mexican regime.
The group, somewhat dormant since the 1938 assassination of its leader,
Jos. Urquiza, had recently regrouped and was being revived under the
banner of the extremist Popular Force Party (PFP).
The more Lander learned about the politics of Mexico, the more evidence
he saw of PFP influence in Mexican life. He brought his concerns
to the U.S. ambassador to Mexico at the time, George S. Messersmith, to
whom Lander explained that the PFP’s rising level of influence was posing
a real threat to Mexico’s Jewish community. He presented evidence that
numerous former Nazis, who had secretly fled to Mexico after the war,
were exerting their sinister influence within the Sinarquista movement
and implored the ambassador to raise the issue with the Roman Catholic
archdiocese. “I’m asking that you urge the church to halt its support of the
PFP.” Messersmith turned a deaf ear and showed Lander the door.
Lander concluded that Messersmith, along with a cabal of government
officials, was sympathetic towards the Mexican fascists. Upon his
return to New York, Lander decided to report his findings directly to
74 The Lander Legacy
Washington. He recalled that during an outbreak of anti-Semitic incidents
in 1930, when an economic slump prompted Mexican storekeepers
to target Jewish bankers—whom they blamed for the crisis—that the U.S.
State Department had intervened and had pressured the Mexican government
to quash the protests. Lander presumed that the State Department
would again respond in kind. He quickly drafted a report and dispatched
it, along with supporting documents, to Spruille Braden, the Assistant
Secretary of State for Latin American Affairs. Disappointingly, his efforts
were met with polite indifference. In 1946 the United States State Department
was preoccupied with the emerging spread of communism. Fighting
fascists was old history. Hadn’t the United States just won the war in order
to rid the world of fascism?
Lander’s report succeeded in one regard, however; it resulted in his being
labeled as a “communist sympathizer” or “comsymp” by the U.S. State
Department, a sobriquet that would dog him for years and result in his
ostensibly being denied needed government funding during the following
decade’s McCarthy era.
As Bernard Lander recalled the disappointments of this first foray
onto the international stage, he was buoyed by the fact that his second
attempt was one he could look back upon with some pride. The Partition
of Palestine vote that had taken place at the United Nations exactly one
year before, in November 1947 was a monumental event marking the end
of the nearly 1,900-year exile of the Jewish people. Fifty-six countries were
then represented in the U.N. and the vote to partition passed with thirtytree
in favor, thirteen against, and ten abstentions. This vote was closer
than it may have appeared since, in order to secure passage, the measure
required a two-thirds majority of those nations voting. As anticipated,
the European nations voted as a bloc in favor of partition and the Arab
nations also voted en masse against it. This placed the decision squarely
into the hands of the nonaligned nations with no obvious interest in the
outcome. In what seemed to some observers as an inexplicable act of solidarity,
thirteen nations of the Caribbean, Central, and South America also
voted as a bloc in favor of partition. These votes made the difference and
succeeded in bringing the State of Israel into existence.
Much has been written about figures such as David Ben-Gurion and
Chaim Weizmann and their roles in forging the new Jewish state. But there
New Horizons 75
remains a short list of unsung heroes whose activities outside the spotlight
were every bit as vital. One such individual was Samuel Zemurray,
the Russian immigrant to the United States, who rose from dire poverty
to become the owner of the United Fruit Company, the world’s largest
purveyors of bananas. A devout Zionist, Zemurray not only donated a banana
boat to the Sochnut (the Jewish Agency, the recognized “government
in exile” of the Jewish people) that would later be famously renamed the
Exodus and used to transport Holocaust survivors to Eretz Yisroel, he also
used his economic clout to convince the Latin American governments he
had been dealing with for decades to cast their votes at the U.N. in favor
of the partition motion.
Another name that should unquestionably be placed on the unsung
heroes list is that of Bernard Lander. Spurred into action by the Sochnut,
which had early on recognized the pivotal role to be played by the
Latin American nations, Lander, at the behest of the Sochnut called upon
the contacts he had been cultivating for the prior three years. In those
early years of the struggle for civil rights, Jews and blacks regarded each
other as soulmates, both victims of institutionalized racism and discrimination.
This bond was manifested as a political coalition that would endure
through the mid-1960s. Lander became a member of a Pro-Palestine
committee and began knocking on the doors of the black leaders he knew
through his work on the Mayor’s Committee on Unity and elsewhere.
Lander first pled his case to Walter White, the Secretary of the NAACP
who agreed to go into action. White, who had a particular interest in Haiti,
spent months lobbying the Haitian U.N. delegation in an ultimately
successful effort to gain its vote in behalf of the Zionist cause.
Lander also contacted a black member of the Mayor’s Committee
with whom he had worked closely. Channing H. Tobias, who held a doctorate
of divinity, had spent his life devoted to the YMCA, a role that
often led him to Latin America as he strove to resolve racial issues with
local political leaders. Tobias had been appointed to the Committee on
Civil Rights by President Truman in 1946 and sat on the national board
of the NAACP. Once again, Lander made his case to a respected black
leader, asking for his intercession on behalf of Partition among his many
contacts in Latin America. Tobias was sympathetic and assured Lander
that he would give it his best effort.
76 The Lander Legacy
The narrowly won U.N. vote was regarded as a victory for Jewish diplomacy.
Pro-partition advocates had managed to summon the support of
black national and international leaders who enjoyed close ties to Jewish
activists, such as Bernard Lander, through their years of working together
in behalf of civil rights. In the final tally, the thirteen of the thirty-three
aye votes at the U.N. General Assembly tendered by non-aligned Latin
American members were the result of outside influence. Lobbied by banana
peddlers and black civil rights leaders, the votes cast by these Roman
Catholic countries, far removed from the affairs of Jews and the Middle
East, made all the difference in the world.
One characteristic that benefited Rabbi Lander’s effectiveness as a civil
rights activist and Zionist was his modesty and willingness to remain out
of the limelight. When a harsh article criticizing Jewish settlements in
Palestine appeared in the Reader’s Digest, Lander did not respond directly.
He called upon his colleague Dan Dodson. Dodson, at Lander’s request,
wrote to a friend who was a senior editor at the magazine, asking him to
publish the other side of this issue. The editor agreed, and the rebuttal
piece soon appeared. Lander, throughout his career, firmly believed that
a bridge is often a better defense than a wall. He urged his rabbinic colleagues
to reach out to other local clergy when taking on social issues or
community relations. “A public statement on an issue by an Episcopalian
or Methodist Bishop from Kentucky has more sway over the State Department
than the largest mass convention in New York City sponsored by
the most well-known Jewish organization,” he once commented. Lander’s
distaste for self-aggrandizement was also a decided asset in his new role as
a husband.
Bernard and Sarah transitioned into married life as many young couples
do. They rented a small apartment in Long Beach as Sarah embarked
on her studies towards a master’s degree in sociology at the New School for
Social Research. The NSSR, founded in 1919, was located in downtown
Manhattan and served as the home of the “University in Exile” in 1933
for Jewish scholars driven from Nazi-controlled Europe. Bernard was still
involved with the Mayor’s Committee on Unity during the day and continued
teaching at Hunter College in the evenings. One evening, Bernard
again complained to his friend, Morris Lifschitz, about the long commute
that both he and Sarah had to endure each day. Lifschitz, who lived in
New Horizons 77
Queens, urged the Landers to consider Forest Hills, with its many vacant
tracts of land, easy commute to Manhattan, and young Jewish community.
The rabbi of the community, Morris Max, was a scholar of stature.
He was originally from Baltimore, and Bernard had been friends with his
brother there. After spending one year in Long Beach, Bernard and Sarah
relocated to Forest Hills in Queens. It was to remain their home for the
remainder of their marriage.
When Bernard Lander arrived to Forest Hills in late 1949, he was met
by a dismal picture of a struggling Torah community in disarray. It was
becoming obvious that Lifschitz had encouraged Lander to move to Forest
Hills not only because he wanted his friend as a neighbor, but also out of
respect for his outstanding leadership and organizing abilities. Lifschitz, a
gifted and community-spirited lawyer, had served with Lander for several
years on the Executive Committee of Mizrachi and recognized that his
skills would make him a first-class collaborator in Lifschitz’s push to “remove
the shame, the helplessness, and the hopelessness” that characterized
the Torah-true Jewish community of Forest Hills.
The community’s only visible organization was the shul, known as
the Queens Jewish Center and Talmud Torah (QJC), which was housed
in a pitifully overcrowded storefront on 66th Avenue. This was supposed
to serve as the synagogue’s temporary quarters at the time it was
first established in 1943, but the congregation had been unable to make
any real progress. It had, at one point, purchased land, Lander was told,
but was forced to halt construction of a new building due to a lack of
adequate funding.
Dr. Lander immediately joined the congregation and soon found
himself on the board. Within one year of his arrival, he was elected president
and quickly appointed Morris Lifschitz to head a new building fund
campaign. The October 1950 edition of the QJC’s newsletter heralded the
news under the banner headline: “Dr. Lander Elected President.” The
article’s depiction of the Landers is noteworthy:
A quiet and unassuming young fellow, (Dr. Lander) immediately
impresses all those with whom he comes in contact with
his level-headed logic and his ability to address an audience in a
man-to-man, friendly tone that is most engaging. Although he
Share with your friends: |
The database is protected by copyright ©ininet.org 2024
send message
|
|