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'A marooned Jew was discovered on a desert island after years of
isolation. His rescuers were impressed by his survival and by the buildings he had
erected, particularly the two synagogues. "But why two?" they asked, puzzled.
The Jew looked at them fiercely. "That's the one I use", he replied, "and
that's the one I refuse to use".'
 Rabbi Herschel Gluck is a man of good humour and laughs easily. A deep chuckle
rose from beneath his bushy, patriarchal beard when he finished the story. Clearly, he
sees the joke as a metaphor for the self-reliance, determination and, when occasion
demands, obduracy of the Jewish people. He settled back into the deep leather sofa in his
study in Fountayne Road and we resumed our conversation about the Hasidim of Stamford
Hill.
For an outsider, it is impossible not to be intrigued by this enigmatic and obviously
devout community, some 25,000 strong, whose presence rarely impinges on the wider area of
Stoke Newington but is such a feature of the leafy confines of Stamford Hill. How did
these closely-knit Judaic people end up in N16? What are their beliefs? How do they
structure their community? Why do the men dress as if they are in 19th century Cracow? Why
do they seem to isolate themselves from the wider world? I met with Rabbi Gluck, from the
Independent Synagogue in Walford Road, to discuss the community.
The Rabbi is Hackney born and bred, although his heavy Yiddish accent belies this. A much
respected figure in the borough and beyond, Rabbi Gluck studied for four years with the
leader of the world Lubavitch community in Brooklyn where he was 'inspired and influenced'
by the Hasidic movement, a profoundly orthodox body of Jewish teaching formed in what is
now the Ukraine in the 18th century. The Hasidics believe in total devotion to the Torah
the Hebrew Scriptures (or Old Testament) and enjoy a mystical, almost cabalistic
tradition of 'joyful worship'. The movement remained resistant to the pogroms of the 19th
century and the genocide of the 20th, and spread to New York, Israel, Paris and London,
among other places. In the words of the Rabbi, 'Hasidic thought has permeated every aspect
of Jewish life and is at the very core of Judaism'.
The community moved to Stamford Hill from the East End in the 1930s and were joined by
others fleeing from the Nazis. After World War Two, many Jewish survivors, wishing to
leave behind them the ghosts of the blood-soaked continent, also arrived, and the
community was reinforced by Hasidim leaving Hungary after the 1956 Soviet invasion.
Stamford Hill is now home to the third largest Hasidic population in the world after
Israel and New York.
'Hasidic thought has permeated every
aspect of Jewish life'
There are a wide number of different groupings within the Stamford Hill
community Satmar (Hungary, Romania), Ger (Poland), Bobov (Galicia), Belz (Western
Ukraine) and Viznitz (Romania) are the most numerous, while curiously the largest of them
all the Lubavitch sect is sparsely represented. They are all of East European
Ashkenazai (the old Hebrew word for Germany) origin and, although they have differences on
matters of interpretation of the Torah and the Talmud (the oral law written down during
the Roman occupation of Israel) they mix easily together within the community. An umbrella
body the Union of Orthodox Jewish Communities represents their individual interests
collectively.
Although social intercourse is the norm within the community, it seems to many outside
observers that they appear unwilling to integrate in any meaningful sense with the wider
Stoke Newington community. Does this perceived aloofness stems from a sense of theological
or moral superiority? Or maybe their apparent indifference is to do with a concern that
the Hasidic culture and beliefs may be eroded by exposure to outside influences? I was
quietly but firmly disabused. 'The word "superior" is preconceived. A strong
spiritual framework is involved with every aspect of life. Judaism is a full-time
requirement with a self-contained tradition. It is very precious to us. We have to serve
God and have little free leisure time. Any snubbing is misinterpreted. The community does
not want to impose its way of life on others but equally it wants to preserve its own
culture and lifestyle.'
Well, what do Hasidic people feel about the other communities in the area? 'We think the
relationship is a positive one'. Rabbi Gluck cites the ground-breaking Muslim Jewish Forum
(where orthodox Jews and Muslims meet regularly to discuss issues of common concern in
Stamford Hill where else in the world would this occur?) as an example. He uses the
distinctively non-Rabbinic but cheerfully contemporary term 'good vibes' to sum up his
view of their general relationship with the outside world.
He was at pains to stress throughout our discussion that, although there are cultural
differences between our various communities, the internal structure of Hasidic life is
little different to other cultures within Stoke Newington. Politics? The Hasidic local
councillors are Conservative and Liberal and the community is mixed in terms of support
for the major parties. Working life? Yes, there are many of the menfolk who devote their
lives to studying the great Hebrew texts and who are not formally employed but other men
work across the board from building to accountancy. Women, however, usually with large
families Rabbi Gluck has eight children tend not to work ('If bringing up and caring
for multiple children is not considered work!', says the Rabbi).
Education is of crucial importance to the orthodox community. There are 20 schools in
Stamford Hill which cater for Hasidic children. Has the community considered a more
integrative policy? The Rabbi mentioned that the schools act 'in loco parentis, to
preserve the culture and faith and to understand other cultures'. The emphasis is on
contemplation and study, which explains why a TV set is a rare item in the Hasidic home.
'A lazy medium' says Rabbi Gluck.
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