It was already dark, so it was impossible to see how Schlesinger reacted to all this. However, it was obvious that he was surprised. Schlesinger had given up all things related to religion, yet there was no subject that interested him as deeply. He regarded religion as an impediment to Israel’s freedom, and, if not for the immediate urgency of fighting the English and the Arabs, he would have devoted all his energies to the fight against religious coercion. Now that Herbst had brought up the subject of Reform Judaism, he was mystified. What was the point of a synagogue, a preacher, and all those trappings for Jews who had discarded the yoke of religion to the extent of trading the Jewish Shabbat for the Christian Sabbath? While one talked and the other listened and pondered, they continued walking and, before long, arrived at the Baka bus stop.
There was no one in sight. A bus had left only a minute earlier. Who knows how long it would be before another one arrived and was ready to leave? In those days, a time of unrest and confusion, people didn’t come and go very much, and there weren’t very many buses in service. Herbst, who had put Shira’s place out of mind for a while, was thinking about it again. He pictured it as it was when he stood peering through the keyhole. According to Anita Brik’s description, that was definitely Shira’s place. It was definitely the place Anita Brik had described, but Shira wasn’t there. He gazed at his fingertips and would have liked to be thinking about Shira, but he felt a barrier between himself and his thoughts. He glanced at his companion, who was standing beside him, and it seemed to him that a moment earlier he had been thinking, but he couldn’t remember exactly what he had been thinking. His mind drifted to Tamara, his daughter, and this is roughly what he thought: My daughter, Tamara, isn’t enthusiastic about talking to me, whereas this young man, whose only significance is his link to Tamara, detains me for a chat, unlike Avraham-and-a-half, who never bestows his presence on me. If I didn’t know Oriental Jews, I would think his was an Oriental manner, attaching himself to a person, being so persistent. Unless I dispel the mood with wellchosen words, he’ll be offended. He expects me to say something, but I remain silent. Herbst began searching for something to say and found nothing. He thought to himself: I’ll discuss the yeshiva with him. Since he used to be part of that world, he must know all about it, and he probably enjoys discussing it.
Herbst said to Schlesinger, “I’ve lived in Jerusalem so many years, and nothing is as close to me as education. Still, when I get the annual announcements of various yeshivas, I never stop to wonder how they are different from each other or what their curricula are like. One announcement is from the Great Yeshiva; another is from the Institute for Advanced Talmudic Studies; yet another is from the Central Yeshiva. They have endless titles, expressing glory, grandeur, eminence. Please, Mr. Schlesinger, tell me how to distinguish between them. Are they organized in classes on different levels — some as secondary schools for Talmud study, others as Talmud universities? I’m totally ignorant about the educational affairs of the older communities. I’m familiar with such terms as heder, Talmud Torah, yeshiva, but I’m not familiar with the curriculum.”
Schlesinger’s lips were tightly pursed, and his face communicated distaste for Herbst’s conversation. Herbst took no notice and continued, “What is the difference between the Grand Yeshiva and the Greater Yeshiva, and how are they different from the Most Revered Yeshiva?” Herbst wanted to ask about other yeshivas, but, being unsure of their names, he didn’t want to say anything ridiculous, lest Schlesinger think he was making fun of him. He included them all in a general question: “What is the curriculum of these yeshivas? I’ve heard it said that the main difference lies in the fundraisers, who know which names contributors respond to, guaranteeing the flow of money into their own pockets. I don’t have to tell you, Mr. Schlesinger, that I am not of that opinion.” When, after a few minutes, he still hadn’t received an answer, he said to Schlesinger, “I have no luck with my questions. An idiot’s questions are hard to answer. Would you rather give me your own version of the ways of the yeshivas?” Schlesinger answered, “As it says in the Gemara, ‘Never throw stones in a well that once gave you water.’ Since I left the yeshiva, I make a point of not discussing it.” “Why?” “Why? How can I explain it? Because I have nothing good to tell about it, and it’s pointless to tell about its evils. If one were to tell about evils, he should tell about the evil that comes from the source of all evil.” “The source of all evil? Are you suggesting that there is a place that all evil comes from?” “Of course.” “And what is it?” “What is it? Is that a real question?” Herbst laughed and said, “As you know, my friend, my path was always orderly. I first studied in an elementary school, then in a high school, then at a university. What I mean is that all my knowledge comes from what I was taught; I know only what I was taught. If my life depended on it, I couldn’t come up with anything I wasn’t taught.” Schlesinger stared at Herbst to see if he was teasing or if he was, truly, just a naive German. He finally decided not to divulge his thoughts to him, for, if he knew what he thought about England, he would surely disapprove of his relationship with his daughter. Herbst was German, after all. And, being German, he probably adhered to the program of Brit Shalom, a covenant of peace.
Other passengers were assembling. Most of them were young men, who didn’t look familiar to Herbst. He was sure they didn’t live in Talpiot or Mekor Hayim; certainly not in Baka, whose inhabitants were Arabs. He noticed that one of them was nodding to him. He looked more closely and realized that he was a student of his. Herbst asked him, “Where’s everybody going?” Someone answered, “To a brit.” “A brit? A circumcision? I never heard of a brit at night.” “This brit will be a covenant of blood, all right.” Most of the young men laughed, and the one who was his student whispered something to Herbst. Herbst said, “Now I realize that I shouldn’t have asked.” “Not at all. It’s just that there was no need for such a brash answer. I see, Professor Herbst, that you still live in Baka. That sort of courage is not to be commended. In truth, other neighborhoods are no more secure. It would take two hundred people to protect Mekor Hayim. Neighborhoods are established without much thought, expanding the sphere of danger.” As he spoke, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “The air has ears.” He raised his voice again and said, “All right, everybody, let the turtle crawl at its own pace. We’ll go on foot.” Someone else said, “Not on foot, not on foot.” “Why not on foot?” “Why? Because the roads are dangerous.” “Quiet, quiet. I can already hear the brakes of the bus. Please, everyone, not so much noise.” “Is silence any better? Lord only knows what’s good and what isn’t. When we’re finally rid of them, we’ll know what’s good.”