Men should hear women sing

EMILY SINGER

In a nation where girls have always served in the army and women currently lead two of the major political parties, the recent debate about the exclusion of women in Israeli society has been nothing short of surreal.

Almost every day you can turn on the radio in our seemingly modern and progressive country, and hear about women being sent to the back of gender-segregated buses or eight-year-old girls being cursed at and spat upon for not dressing modestly. In Jerusalem, women’s faces are banned from advertising posters. Some have recently compared what is going on here with life in some Muslim fundamentalist states but, strikingly, this is all happening in a city that hosts an annual gay pride parade. Sometimes, walking down the street, it is hard to keep track of what century we are living in.

The recent wave of news stories that have put the issue of the exclusion of women high on Israel’s social agenda began a few months ago with a group of religious soldiers who walked out of a military performance because a woman was singing. They insisted that to listen to a woman sing is strictly forbidden by Jewish law. Their officer believed it was important for the soldiers to be part of the ceremony, and he commanded them to stay. The soldiers left anyway and were subsequently relieved of their military duties for failure to obey a commanding officer.

This story highlighted the complexity of the issue. Many people were angry that the men walked out; others were furious that the soldiers were discharged for following their religious convictions. Was the army’s response disproportionate? The soldiers were not suggesting the woman should not to perform. They were merely choosing not to listen. Indeed, why should any religious man be compelled to hear a woman sing?

On Jan. 1, amid the most recent public outcry (involving a sign that instructed women to stay off a certain sidewalk), Israelis received the sad news about the death of beloved singer Yaffa Yarkoni. Yarkoni, who died at the age of 86, was known as Israel’s “national wartime singer” (though she preferred to be called a “singer of peace”). She had performed for troops in battle since 1948, known for such classics as “Bab el-Wad,” “Ha’amini Yom Yavo” and “Hen Efshar.” President Shimon Peres referred to her as “the nightingale of the [Israel Defence Forces] and the entire nation.”

I was listening to the radio on the day of Yarkoni’s funeral when I heard an interview with Dory Nachum, who had been a soldier during the Yom Kippur War. He described a devastating battle in which he had lost a third of his platoon. He talked about the morale of these young men who had just lost their comrades and friends, and who felt lost themselves. They were collapsed on the ground, feeling like they would never move again. The men who would normally have put on tefillin didn’t bother. Nothing seemed to have any purpose or reason.

As they were sat there, overwhelmed by this enormous sense of hopelessness, a voice came on the communication radio. It was Yarkoni, asking Nachum’s commanding officer, Ariel Sharon, what she could do to help the troops. He asked her to sing.

When Yarkoni began to sing, the soldiers listened, entranced. The music filled the air. Slowly, life returned to the young men’s eyes. Nachum said it was like they had all been transformed, if just a little bit. As the song concluded, without a word, the men got up, prepared their morning coffee, and began their day.

Listening to Nachum’s story, I couldn’t help thinking about these young men who believe it is forbidden to hear a woman sing. I don’t know that we should force people to act against their religious convictions, but it worries me that there might be soldiers who can not distinguish between the innocent beauty of song, and something that is sexually inappropriate. And it makes me sad that there are Israeli children who grow up without the voices of Yarkoni and Naomi Shemer.

I hope that these latest clashes between the secular and religious worlds will lead to a new dawn of mutual understanding and cooperation. I pray that we will see the day when all of Israel will be united and there for one another like Yaffa Yarkoni was there for Dory Nachum’s platoon. And I pray that none of us will ever actually need that kind of help

Emily Singer is a teacher, social worker and freelance writer living in Israel. She is currently working on two books. Singer and her husband, Ross, were rebbetzin and rabbi of Vancouver’s Shaarey Tefilah congregation from 1996 to 2004.

^TOP