Introduction

The festival of Hanukkah is very much associated with song and music. Whether it be the traditional melodies for the blessings over the candles, the songs that follow the candle lighting and other liturgy, ballads telling the story of the miracles of Hanukkah, songs of light, candles and oil, or tunes related to the customs, food and games of Hanukkah, every Jewish community has songs or poems that are inherently linked with this holiday.

The most popular Ashkenazi song for Hanukkah is Maoz Tzur, known in English as “Rock of Ages”. The song was written by Mordecai, an Ashkenazi poet who lived before the 13^th century in Crusader Germany, whose name is spelled out in the initial letter of each stanza of the song.

The song reviews God’s rescues of our people from Pharoah, Nebuchadnezar, Haman and Antiochus and looks forward to the messianic redemption as prophesized by the prophet Daniel. Each stanza of the song refers to a different rescue in Israel’s history:

Maoz Tzur: The Rock of My Rescue

1. The Rock of my Rescue

My God, You are the Rock of my Rescue
and it is lovely to praise You.
Restore my House of Prayer,
where I will offer you thanks.
When you prepare the destruction of the enemy
who threatens us (like a barking dog),
then I will sing a song for the
Hanukkah (Rededication) of the Altar

2. The Rescue from Pharaoh (1200 BCE)

Oh, my soul is sated with trouble
Reducing my strength to nothing, consumed with grief.
My life was embittered with hard labor
enslaved by Egypt’s Empire.
But with God’s great (outstretched) arm,
God took out his treasured people.
Then Pharaoh’s army
Sank in the depths of the Red Sea like a stone.

3. The Rescue from Babylonia (539 BCE)

Despite the fact that God brought me to his Holy Place,
Even there I found no peace.
Along came a persecutor, who exiled me,
for I sinned by worshipping foreign gods.
I drank poisoned wine
and almost passed from this world.
Then came the end of Babylonia and the rise of Zerubavel
and at the end of 70 years of exile I was rescued.

4. The Rescue from Haman (5^th century BCE)

Cutting down a tree to hang Mordechai is what Haman, the descendant
of King Agag of Amalek, requested from King Ahashverosh of Persia.
However it became his snare and stumbling block,
so Haman was hung and his arrogance was stilled.
You raised up Mordechai
while wiping away his enemy’s name.
Haman’s many sons
were hung on that tree.

5. The Rescue from Antiochus (164 BCE)

Against me the Greeks gathered,
back in the days of the Hasmoneans.
Into my walls they broke
and polluted all my oils.
Yet from the remaining cruses
a miracle was made for the people of the roses.
The Rabbis established eight days
of song and Hallel.

6. The Messianic Redemption

Bare Your holy arm (ready for war)
and hasten the Millenium, Time of Redemption.
Avenge your servant’s blood (spilled in Crusade and pogrom)
by the wicked nations (Christian Europe),
for the rescue is too long delayed for us.
There seems no end to the days of evil’s rule.
Repel the Red One in the shadow of the cross
and raise up for us the seven shepherds.^[1]Translation from Noam Zion and Barbara Spectre, A Different Light: The Hanukkah Book of Celebration, New York: 2000, p. 4-5

Some scholars argue that the cryptic expression “the Red One” in the last verse refers to a specific Christian King. The “Red One” of Maoz Tzur, they claim, refers to the red-bearded Frederick of Germany, who led the Third Crusade to recapture Jerusalem from Salah-a-din, the Turkish military genius who had taken it from the Crusaders after almost 100 years of Christian rule (1099-1187). The Jews had every reason to fear the revival of the Crusades that had brought widespread pogroms, forced conversions, cancellation of debts, and pillage. They had every reason to pray for the defeat of the Red One who would have reestablished the Christian rule of Jerusalem that had involved the massacre of its Jews and a prohibition on further Jewish residence after the First Crusade.

Ultimately the Red One drowned in Asia Minor during one of the battles, while his fellow Crusader King, red-haired Richard the Lion Hearted, arrived in the Holy Land by sea. Eventually, he too was unsuccessful in conquering Jerusalem and returned to England. King Richard and Robin Hood are heroic figures in English medieval myths and in American children’s stories where Richard’s treacherous brother Prince John is the villain. However for the Jews, it was Richard and Frederick, the “Red Ones,” who were the villains whose defeat, it was hoped, would open the messianic age.

Mrs. Hanukkah and Mr. Purim Quarrel

A much less well-known Hanukkah poem, originally written in Judeo-Arabic in North Africa, brings to life some of the traditional roles women played in that community in the celebration of Hanukkah. This poem is an esoteric piece of popular creative writing and its origins are somewhat obscure. Nevertheless, it is an eloquent portrayal of the holiday atmosphere in the particular Moroccan setting in which it was written, apparently during the nineteenth century.

Joseph Chetrit translated the original poem first into Hebrew and then later into English. The English version is set in blank verse, with a fairly literal translation, but with no attempt to reproduce the original meter:

A Tale of Hanukkah and Purim

Come, honored friends, and I’ll tell you a tale

Of Purim and Hanukkah, who quarreled and fought

On the evening of the 25^th of Kislev in the second month.

Hanukkah lamps have been cleaned, wine and mahya casks are open,

And members of the community are all prepared,

My friends, to kindle the Hanukkah lamps.

Now Hanukkah had scarce begun to light the first wick,

When Purim (the Megillah’s father) burst in

And extinguished her lamp- only darkness remained.

Bowing her head, she said nothing to Purim,

Treated him with respect and awaited his next move.

But he was intent on picking a fight with her.

The very sight of him, wielding a stick,

Filled her with terror, and she ran out distraught,

Taking refuge in the neighbor’s house

‘Restore my good name!’ she cried. Does he take me

For Haman ben Hammedatha? Let darkness and wrath befall him!

My peace of mind will come only from Heaven.

‘Just hear what a needy man suffered on Purim eve:

He intended to buy a rooster for the Megillah banquet,

But could not afford it and went hungry to bed.

‘As for Purim day, it brought him no rest, from early morning to Minhah time.

It’s a shame to eat couscous with milk at such a late hour,

Just because of a lack of clay dishes to serve it in.

‘Neither adults nor children may leave the synagogue

Till the Megillah has been read; and whenever Haman’s name is mentioned,

They set off firecrackers, or have Haman crushed between stones.

‘With noisemakers children deafen him, and between stones they crush him;

And if anyone draws a picture of him,

They hang it on reed poles or on the wall!

‘One tells another: “Quick, my wife has baked bread with Haman eggs.”

They swig mahya and say to a neighbor: “Get out!

I won’t let you lie drunk in my house.”

‘This one gets himself intoxicated and then beats his wife;

Another stretches out like a bridge. Yet the needy man,

Good friends, doesn’t even have a chicken’s neck for supper!

‘On Shushan Purim they all sober up in a reflective mood,

Each worries about how he’ll welcome Cousin Passover,

As if Purim hadn’t just been here, good friends!’

Purim, my friends, hearing this list of reproaches,

Quickly wrapped his Megillah around Hanukkah, saying:

‘Wretched woman, do you take me for a Christian?

‘The Jews call you Hanukkah because you’re ugly and destitute.

You’re all talk and bring only cold comfort;

In fact you’re not worth a red cent.

‘The Jewish woman’s hands are swollen from making wicks,

A cat swallows those wicks in an instant and next day, my friends,

You’ll see her seeking whence to make yet another batch.

‘She [Hanukkah] can always be found like a beggar at the door

Or hanging on the wall. She compels the Jews to waste oil

And yet brings them no benefit, as you well know!

‘One may not read by the light of the Hanukkah lamp

And it serves no useful purpose; men, women, and children

May not even kindle a light from its flame.

‘So go away, savage creature, you’re just some nasty potion!

Had it not been for Nahshon ben Amminadav,

You’d be worth not a cent.

‘Each night you add another wick, like some wretched woman.

You sit like a widow by the front door

And no one pays you any heed.’^[2]Published in “North African Lights”, Israel Museum, Jerusalem: 2002, p. 26-31

In Morocco, poetic disputes—including some in Hebrew—were widely disseminated in many communities and were quite well known. Typically they focused on the constant, “natural” tension between men and women. This particular poem, however, has remained relatively obscure, with a very restricted circulation.

This poem was undoubtedly a pastiche, written in the same vein as an earlier poetic dispute which was familiar to members of all of Morocco’s Jewish communities in the 19^th and 20^th centuries, between the holidays of Passover and Sukkot. The harsh tone of the feuds in both these poems stems first and foremost from the different status attributed to each of the holidays in the respective pairs. (Passover vs. Sukkot, Purim vs. Hanukkah). But it also derives from the charged relationship between the sexes in traditional Jewish society and the polemic over the issue of the respective contributions of women and men to the proper observance of the holidays.

The holiday experience, relived during the same season every year throughout dozens of generations, enabled the Jewish public to develop notions of these occasions as social beings with individual personalities of their own; in the public’s mind, each holiday bore a human and cultural significance that transcended its particular ceremonies and rituals as well as its religious and historical origins.

Because of the mental associations that were evoked, there was something of a social and cultural hierarchy created in the public mind, ranking the holidays in relative positions, one against the other. The two holidays with which rank lowest on this scale, are Purim and Hanukkah. Hanukkah is presented as a helpless woman, bereft of family and compelled to flee to the neighbors to seek temporary refuge when Purim attacks her. The poem includes a description of the lighting of the Hanukkah lamp, preceded by the dipping of the wick in oil, in preparation for the lighting. These wicks could not be purchased, and housewives usually made them from rags torn from old white clothing. Preparing the wicks was a difficult task, since it involved tolling small scraps of material between the palms of one’s hands or on some other part of the body in order to produce tightly wound cloth strips that could absorb the oil and burn for relatively long periods of time. This procedure would often cause the hands to swell. The halakhic regulations prohibiting the use of Hanukkah lights for purposeful illumination or for lighting a fire are mentioned. The poem ends with the harsh metaphor of Hanukkah as forsaken widow, adding yet another contemptuous slur to Purim’s litany of insults. On the other hand, Purim, the male, is presented as a holiday brimming with events and joyous celebrations that take place in the family circle.

The poem, a folk composition, disconnects the holiday from its religious and historical roots, revealing the ambivalent psychological and social aspects of the festival of Hanukkah, which provides a cause for celebration and a break in the daily routine, but also brings with it much effort and preparation on the part of the women.

Although the description in this poem seems a bit daunting and dim, the women also played a special role not only in the preparation of the wicks and the food, but also in the celebration of the holiday.  In some North African communities the seventh night of Hanukkah is dedicated specifically to heroines like Judith and Hannah. Women would gather in the synagogue, take out the torah scroll and receive a blessing from the rabbi in the name of the matriarchs. The women ate cheese and dairy products that recalled Judith’s device for overcoming Holofernes. Generally, women refrain from household tasks while the candles are burning, since, as the rabbis taught, “women have a special place in the the miracle of Hanukkah”, and therefore, in its celebration.