The family of murdered Chabad emissaries Gabriel and Rivky Holtzberg has removed its objections to the reconstruction of the Chabad house in Mumbai.
Right in the middle of Karachi stands one of the most recognized symbols of Judaism: the Star of David. It adorns Merewether Tower, one of the city's best-known landmarks. Nadeem Ahmed, a broker at the Karachi Stock Exchange located just across the street, points to some old graffiti at the base of the tower that reads "Israel na manzoor" (Israel is not acceptable). "These marks show the anger of some fanatics for the brutality of Israelis against the Muslims of Palestine and Lebanon," he says. "Frankly speaking, I'm neither happy nor sad about the Jews who were killed in Mumbai."
" . . . If we left it to the 'will of the people,' would we ever have ended segregation in this country? . . "
Jews are believed to have lived in India since the time of King Solomon, and throughout its ancient history the community has experienced virtually no anti-Semitism -- a source of pride to India's Jews and non-Jews alike.
In response to the terrorist attack on Mumbai and its Chabad Center, three Los Angeles businesmen have put up $125,000 to enable a Jewish cricket team from India to participate in the 18th Maccabiah Games in Israel.
Whether in Thailand or San Francisco, when I wanted a place to spend a holiday, to pray on Shabbat or just to connect, there was always one of those perennially cheerful Chabad rabbis, a motley collection of tossed-about Jews and some schnapps. And I was home.
As we mourn and pray silently for the victims of Mumbai, maybe we ought to consider a quieter, more lethal approach to fighting the multi-headed serpent of Islamic terrorism, one that doesn't play to the movement's craving for high drama and worldwide media exposure
What blow against Western decadence were they striking by targeting a Chabad house, whose entire purpose it is to spread spirituality to people whose lives lack it?
The world has never experienced such a plague of darkness like the plague of Islamic fundamentalism that reveres death over life, that teaches young people that the preferred way to get to heaven is by murdering and maiming
The overwhelming majority of mourners had never met the Holtzbergs. But that didn't matter. They have become, for Americans, the public face of this tragedy.
Chabad has become so ubiquitous that Jewish travelers around the world, no matter how far they stray, have come to expect a Shabbat meal, a holiday celebration and a warm welcome from one of these Chasidic couples, no questions asked. All that's required is a knock on the door.
Before I entered the Chabad house in Mumbai, I thought, "What kind of people would leave a comfortable and secure life in a religious community to live in the middle of Mumbai; a dirty, difficult, crowded city?" As I got to know Rivky and Gabi over the course of this past summer, I understood that G-d creates some truly special people willing to devote their lives to bettering the world.
The attacks on 10 sites in the Indian city, which killed nearly 200 people, could lead to a shift in the way Israel views global terrorism and the way to combat it.
For Pakistanis at home, the fear is more palpable. It is not necessarily fear of immediate violence, but of something much darker growing in our very own backyard. Initially, the tragedy had seemed somewhat distant, but then came the damning reports that the terrorists used a boat to travel from Karachi.
Until confirmation finally came that the Chabad emissaries in Mumbai were among the more than 170 victims killed in this week’s terrorist attacks in India, Chabad Chasidim and emissaries the world over prayed for the best while fearing for the worst
I lived in Mumbai for six months last year, and would go to the Beit Chabad with friends for a Shabbat meal about every second week. Over the course of six months, we got to know the rabbi and his wife quite well.
A Chabad rabbi and his wife were among the dead after Indian forces retook a Jewish center in Mumbai, India from terrorist gunmen