How a 13-Century Muslim Described the Present Islamic Takeover of the West

Here’s Wikipedia’s introduction:

ʿAsabiyya or asabiyyah (Arabic: عصبيّة) is a concept of social solidarity with an emphasis on unity, group consciousness and sense of shared purpose, and social cohesion,[1] originally in a context of “tribalism” and “clanism“. It was familiar in the pre-Islamic era but became popularized in Ibn Khaldun‘s Muqaddimah where it is described as the fundamental bond of human society and the basic motive force of history, pure only in its nomadic form. ʿAsabiyya is neither necessarily nomadic nor based on blood relations; rather, it resembles the philosophy of classical republicanism. In the modern period, it is generally analogous to solidarity. However, it is often negatively associated because it can sometimes suggest loyalty to one’s group regardless of circumstances, or partisanship.[2] Ibn Khaldun also argued that ʿasabiyya is cyclical and directly related to the rise and fall of civilizations: it is most strong at the start of civilization, declines as the civilization advances, and then another, more compelling ʿasabiyyah eventually takes its place to help establish a different civilization.

Ibn Khaldun argues that each dynasty (or civilization) has within itself the seeds of its own downfall. He explains that ruling houses tend to emerge on the peripheries of great empires and use the much stronger ʿasabiyya present in those areas to their advantage, in order to bring about a change in leadership. This implies that the new rulers are at first considered “barbarians” by comparison to the old ones. As they establish themselves at the center of their empire, they become increasingly lax, less coordinated, disciplined and watchful, and more concerned with maintaining their new power and lifestyle. The ʿasabiyya, dissolves into factionalism and individualism, diminishing their capacity as a political unit. Thus, conditions are created wherein a new dynasty can emerge at the periphery of their control, grow strong, and effect a change in leadership, beginning the cycle anew.

See the rest here on Wikipedia

How Rabbi Chaim Greineman Helped a Ba’al Teshuvah Stay ‘Normal’…

Rabbi Greineman visited the home of Yossi Wallis (later CEO of Arachim) on Friday afternoons on several occasions to accompany the latter’s family to the beach…

Quoting Rabbi Yishai Wallis, son of Yossi Wallis, from Mishpacha’s “Asorim” Sukkos 5770 supplement, p. 22:

“הגאון הגדול רבי חיים גריינמן זצ”ל ידע שאצל בעלי תשובה בתחילת דרכם קיימת נטייה לקיצוניות, לשלילה מוחלטת של כל מה שמזוהה אצלם עם אורח החיים הקודם שלהם. אבא שלי סיפר לו בשעתו שהוא חובב גדול של שחייה וצלילה ואף היה מרבה לקחת את ילדיו לים, והגר”ח גריינמן שיער בחכמתו שהוא חדל מהנוהג הזה לאחר שחזר בתשובה, אולי אפילו ראה בכך ‘ביטול זמן’. אז בכדי להראות לו כיצד צריכים להיראות חיי משפחה נורמליים על פי דרך התורה הוא עמד על כך שנצא כולנו לים כפי שהיינו רגילים. וכדי שלא נחשוב שאולי זאת הנהגה של ‘בדיעבד’ שאינה ראויה לחרדי מובהק, הוא לא הסתפק בהעברת המסר הזה באמצעות שליח אלא הגיע בעצמו, להראות דוגמה אישית”

‘Eretz Yisroel Has a Homey Jewish Feel’

Gedaliah O., Old City, Yerushalayim

My family immigrated to Eretz Yisroel when I was seven years old. We were a regular frum American balebatish family from Manhattan. My parents had lived here eighteen years earlier for a very short while, while volunteering on a kibbutz.

A year before we moved, we came to Eretz Yisroel on a pilot trip. At some of the American families we stayed by, the children did not speak any English. My father would never forget that, and he made it a rule that in our house we’d only speak English.

Before leaving America, my parents hired a tutor to teach me some Hebrew. He taught me maybe thirty words. Though it was of some assistance to me, it was still quite difficult when I arrived here.

When I started school in Eretz Yisroel, I had no idea what was going on. After a while, I started having some minor social issues there, so I transferred to another school. I had a few friends there and attended ulpan [school for learning the Hebrew language].

We had started out in a merkaz klita [absorption center] in Mevaseret Tzion near Yerushalayim. We then moved to permanent housing in the town of Kochav Yaakov. It is considered a Torani town, meaning that the people there are Torah observant, though from various backgrounds and sects, ranging from Dati-Leumi [National Religious] to Chareidi. Across the road is the entirely Chareidi town of Tel Zion. Today there are many children from Kochav Yaakov that attend the institutions there—but that was built only several years later. I started attending a Dati-Leumi school in nearby Maale Michmash.

Though by the time we moved I had already completed third grade, the principal of the new school suggested I join their school’s third grade, since it was a small class with only seven other children. If I would have gone to fourth grade, I would have been in a much larger class with twenty kids. This choice served me well. Additionally, because my new rebbi was extremely dedicated to his job, I was so successful. He basically didn’t know any English, and I knew very little Hebrew, yet within a month I was filling out the biurei millim [word explanations] worksheet with simple Hebrew instead of translating it all into English, thanks to his determination.

After a year in yeshiva ketana, I was having some difficulty in integrating into the surrounding society, so I went back to America to learn in the Yeshiva of Bayonne. I also wanted some secular studies, and this way I got them in a Chareidi environment. In the U.S., I skipped to a higher grade, as the level in Eretz Yisroel is higher. I had an older brother that learned there, and I have a married sister who lives in Brooklyn where I would go for an off-Shabbos. My parents had kept a business in the States, so they would fly in occasionally and I would get to see them. They would also fly every Sukkos to my grandparents in Phoenix, and I would join them from Bayonne. Some of my hashkafah as well as my Chareidi attire has stuck with me from my time in Bayonne.

After finishing high school in Bayonne, I came back to Eretz Yisroel and attended a small yeshiva until I got married. I then started learning in R’ Nechemia Kaplan’s yeshiva.

For the first year of marriage, we lived in the Sanhedria neighborhood of Yerushalayim. We then moved to Maaleh HaZeitim, where we lived for the next five years.

Maaleh HaZeitim is a cluster of small Jewish neighborhoods on Har HaZeisim. In addition to hosting the famous Jewish cemetery, there are a lot of Arabs around—some not so very friendly—so I would keep a small stone in my pocket. However, in the course of five years I never ended up having to use it even once. The Jewish presence in the area has greatly reduced the rampant vandalism to Jewish tombstones that was once a normalcy.

In addition to being the resting place of many great tzaddikim, the Har HaZeisim cemetery is also a reminder of the time when people would come to Eretz Yisroel to spend their last days here. Today, B”H, Eretz Yisroel is a place for living Jews and for Jewish living, too!

The country has advanced immensely over the past 25 years. Besides for the gashmiyus side of things—new roads, highways, trains, technology, etc—there are hundreds of yeshivos; various learning programs like avos uvanim and “Yeshivas Mordechai HaTzaddik” [the Purim learning program] are very popular here. Although it is much more acceptable for Chareidim to work than it was thirty years ago, there are not less people learning because of that, considering the immense Chareidi population growth.

There are Chareidi programs for learning trades and for frum people who want to earn degrees. The country accommodates accreditation from other countries; it is a process to get the accreditation recognized, but it is doable. I have a sister-in-law who was licensed to be a nurse in the US, took a test here, and she is now a nurse in Eretz Yisroel.

I find Eretz Yisroel has an enjoyable “homey” Jewish feel—people walking around with taleisim and sometimes tefillin, the Shabbos siren going off at candle-lighting time, a lot of simchas and other Jewish activities all make up this wonderful atmosphere where Jewish people and Jewish living are valued.

Economics Observation

I remember overhearing a conversation between my sister and sister-in-law, one of whom lives in Eretz Yisroel and the other who is still in chutz laAretz. They were discussing the financial differences between both places.

Their bottom line was that it could be the same game in either place for a standard family to make the effort to make ends meet. While one of them made quite a respectable living in the US, after tuition for four kids, maintenance for two cars, housing, and other expenses, not much remained. The one in Eretz Yisroel was earning less than a quarter the amount but was also spending exponentially less on education—and the tremendously lower cost of medical care, a wedding, a bris, or kiddush also cannot be compared.

There really isn’t more money in the US because it’s also needed much more. When there is a bit left over, it goes much further here.

The Jewish Categorical Imperative?

From “Likutei Tefillos” Prayer 4, sec. 46:

בכן יהי רצון מלפניך ד’ אלהי ואלהי אבותי, שתעזרני ותושיעני ברחמיך הרבים לזכות לשמחה גדולה באמת בעבודתך, כמו שכתוב: “עבדו את ד’ בשמחה וגילו ברעדה”. ותזכני ברחמיך הרבים לעשות כל המצוות בשמחה גדולה באמת, שיהיה לי שמחה גדולה מהמצוה בעצמה, שאגיל ואשמח מאד בשעת עשית כל מצוה ומצוה, במה שזכיתי ברחמיך לעשות המצוה, וכל שמחתי יהיה רק המצוה לבד לא בשביל שכר עולם הבא, מכל שכן וכל שכן שלא יעלה בדעתי ח”ו פניות של שטות בשביל בני אדם או בשביל עסקי עולם הזה ח”ו, רק שאזכה לעשות כל המצוות בשמחה גדולה מהמצוה בעצמה. ויהיה כל העולם הבא שלי בהמצוה בעצמה עד שלא ארצה שום שכר עולם הבא בשביל המצוה, רק שכל שכרי יהיה שתזכני לעשות מצוה אחרת בשכר מצוה זאת, כמו שאמרו רבותינו זכרונם לברכה ששכר מצוה מצוה.