Annamaria Mitterrand
Governor of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem
Knight of the Order of Arts and Letters

annamariamitterrand@gmail.com
Website L’actualité vue par Anne-Marie Mitterrand: https://annemariemitterrand.net/
Website Abraham et Anne-Marie: https://abrahametannemarie.com/

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EPISODES

EPISODE 1: FROM THE ORIGIN OF JUDAISM TO THE FIRST ANTISEMITISM

EPISODE 2: THE EXODUS FROM EGYPT

EPISODE 3: THE FIRST KINGS

EPISODE 4: MYTH OR REALITY?

EPISODE 5: THE FIRST ANTISEMITISM HAS ARRIVED

EPISODE 6: THE DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM

EPISODE 7: AFTER THE DESTRUCTION OF JERUSALEM

EPISODE 8: FROM MASSADA TO AELIA CAPITOLINA

EPISODE 9: FROM 135 TO 325 -WHEN SILENCE REPLACES WEAPONS

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2,000 years before Jesus Christ, Abraham and his family lived in Mesopotamia. His father, Terah, a polytheistic idolater, devotedly crafted countless statuettes representing pagan gods. One day, supported by celestial energy, Abraham becomes enraged and takes the risk of destroying the idols displayed in his father’s shop. Then he hears a voice coming from the sky, that of the Eternal, advising him to leave the region without delay. Monotheism is born. Immediately Abraham sets out with his wife Sarah, his servants, his friends, and enough provisions to survive… Saddened by the death of his brother Haran, who entrusted his son Lot to him before dying, estranged from his second brother Nahor after a major dispute, yet still excited to embark on this adventure, he soon settles in the Land of Canaan.

A miracle occurs. The Voice of the Eternal speaks to the one He has chosen as His representative on Earth:
“To you and to your descendants after you, I will give the land where you sojourn, all the land of Canaan, as an everlasting possession, and I will be your God.” Thus, God has revealed Himself to Abraham. Everything is in order.

Since his wife Sarah is barren and cannot provide him with the descendants promised by the Eternal, she is pragmatic enough to accept a surrogate mother. Abraham is 86 years old when Hagar, the Egyptian servant, gives birth to his eldest son, Ishmael.

Sarah, stingy with any acknowledgment toward Hagar, causes the latter to run away with her son. But the Good Lord does not see it that way; He demands that Sarah, who obeys Him, apologize to the servant. To reward Sarah, God, with a celestial embrace, grants this nearly one-hundred-year-old couple a son: Isaac, a Jew circumcised just as—from now on—all Jewish boys will be.

Life takes shape in Canaan, rites are established, prayers, sacrifices, kosher meals, and as the Good Lord set the example, at the appearance of the third star on the seventh day of the week, silence: one ceases all bustle to devote time to prayer, reading, and reflection. Henceforth, Shabbat will be observed in recognition of God’s creation of the world.

However, the Eternal, insatiable, to test Abraham’s loyalty, demands the sacrifice of Isaac. Off they go toward Mount Moriah with a sheep and servants. Isaac agrees to be offered as a holocaust by his father. But…a divine reversal: at the very moment Abraham raises his arm to kill his son, a messenger of God, the Celestial Angel, stays his hand. As an expression of gratitude, Abraham sacrifices a ram which, “as if by chance,” was there. On this blessed site, Solomon, the first king of the Jews, a visionary pioneer, will lay the foundations of the Temple around which Jerusalem, the Holy Jewish City, will be built.

“Thank you, my God.” Nevertheless…the price is heavy. Everyone throngs at the city gates. It is not large but sumptuous, breath-taking in its grandeur. Alas, the majestic beauty of Jerusalem and the spirituality that radiates from it arouse envy.

La Rochefoucauld said it: “Envy is more irreconcilable than hatred.”

Was anti-Semitism born with this budding jealousy? Do the countless anti-Semitic acts recorded around the world since that time have something to do with the Good Lord’s acknowledgment of Abraham’s obedience?

The phobia of Judaism is frightfully solid: conquering the Kingdom of Israel is more than a territorial conquest; it is also asserting superiority over the unique God of the Jews. Insulting, attacking, and murdering Jews is the continuation of barbaric invasions intolerant of differences.

It is the repetition of criminal racism.

END OF EPISODE 1

I wrote in my book Russian Music about the indifference surrounding the violence inflicted on Jews during the years leading up to the last war of 1939-1940: “No one said anything, no one did anything…” Today, there is still no significant reaction to defend our Jewish fellow citizens against the rising wave of antisemitic acts. Here are just a few examples among many: hateful graffiti, verbal insults, the defacement of Simone Veil’s portrait in February 2019… Finkielkraut assaulted in May… Let’s not forget the repeated desecration of Jewish graves—in Charente, Bordeaux, Cognac, and elsewhere! Most recently, the vandalism of the Westhoffen Jewish Cemetery in Alsace on December 3, 2019, where over a hundred tombstones were marked with black swastikas. How can anyone attack the dead?

To conclude this very brief inventory, let me end with December 19: two and a half years after the brutal murder of Sarah Halimi, who was beaten to death and thrown out of a window by Kobili Traoré, shouting “Allah Akbar,” the Paris Court of Appeals initially ruled that the perpetrator was not criminally responsible. Under the influence of illegal substances, the murderer was deemed not accountable. “It’s not my fault,” he claimed, and with that, he was absolved. Take note: All you need to do is get sufficiently high to kill someone with impunity! Would a young man of another faith, tried for the same crime, have been so easily pardoned?

There has been little to no reaction to these atrocities. Paralyzed by fear, no one speaks, no one acts.

We, human beings from all over the world, regardless of our social or religious differences, must unite to combat the hatred directed against a people who have done nothing to provoke it—certainly not in Abraham’s time, as we saw in the first episode of my quest for truth, nor during Moses’ time and the Jewish Exodus from Egypt, as you will read in the text I present to you below.

THE EXODUS FROM EGYPT

Somewhere along the banks of the Nile, 1500 years before Jesus Christ, Jewish parents, fearing their son might be killed by barbaric polytheists, placed him in a wicker basket and set it adrift on the current to save his life.

Far away in Egypt, members of Pharaoh Ramses’ court were honoring their numerous idols. Suddenly, the queen interrupted the pagan ceremony at the sight of a basket drifting on the water. Immediately, two servants retrieved it and brought it to Asiyah, the Egyptian ruler’s wife. She opened the cradle, and joy overwhelmed her—this baby would be named Moses. Moses had arrived, Moses was saved from the waters.

As he grew into a highly intelligent young man, Moses became the trusted advisor to Pharaoh, his eminence grise. Surrounded by envy and jealousy, he found himself forced to prove his integrity. In the throne room, in the presence of the sovereign, court conspirators laid a trap to discredit him. They placed two basins on a console—one overflowing with rubies, the other filled with burning coals. Pharaoh encouraged him, saying, “Help yourself; it all belongs to you.” Instinctively, Moses reached his arm toward the precious stones. But God intervened, redirecting his hand toward the glowing embers. Moses picked up one of the burning coals and brought it to his lips, scorching himself terribly. From that moment, he was condemned to stutter for the rest of his life.

Accepting his handicap, Moses began to sense that a supernatural power was watching over him.

To assert their dominance, the jealous advisors threw their staffs at Pharaoh’s feet, and the staffs transformed into serpents. One envious courtier mocked Moses: “If your God is so powerful, let Him try to do the same!” Moses cast his own staff, which also turned into a serpent. Remarkably, Moses’ serpent swallowed all the others.

Convinced he was the embodiment of God on Earth, Moses felt invincible. He demanded that Pharaoh release his enslaved brethren, who toiled relentlessly to build the Egyptian dynasties’ pyramids—true five-star tombs. “Let my people go!” he declared. But Pharaoh resolutely retorted, “I want to keep my Jews.”

Furious, Moses promised the worst catastrophes would strike Egypt, and indeed, they came one after another: rivers turned to blood, invasions of voracious frogs, swarms of bloodthirsty gnats, decimated livestock, Egyptians covered in boils… and the ultimate horror—the death of every firstborn, including Pharaoh’s eldest son.

Ramses was determined to keep his Jews as long as he could exploit them at will, but he began to resent his perpetually unresponsive gods. When his child passed away, the Pharaoh broke down and finally granted Moses his demand. Moses departed, followed by his brethren. Thus began the Exodus of the Jewish people from Egypt.

Guided by Moses, the Hebrews made their way through the desert until they reached the Red Sea. The situation was dire: on one side, the sea stretched before them; on the other, a cloud of dust signaled the rapid advance of the Egyptian army. Panic set in. How could Moses’ beloved God possibly save them? Swimming across the sea was out of the question! Then, Moses, empowered by a supernatural force, parted the waters of the Red Sea, creating a dry path through which the people could cross!

Despite their fear that the miracle might turn into disaster, the Jewish people, encouraged by their leader, began their march toward the opposite shore. Behind them, the waters closed and swallowed the Egyptian army.

The Jews, still doubtful, grew hungry. « Will our shepherd be able to feed us? » they asked. Lost in thought, Moses himself wondered what he had gotten into. « God, help me, » he prayed. His prayer was answered. Within his sight, a bush burned without being consumed—a sign from above. He approached it, and from the flames, an angel emerged, appointing him as the shepherd of God’s people. And then, manna rained from the heavens.

However, the Almighty, vexed by their skepticism, extended their wandering to forty years before granting them forgiveness. He summoned Moses to Mount Sinai and entrusted him with the Tablets of the Law. Yet, in Moses’ absence, the Jewish people built a golden calf and worshiped it. Enraged, Moses shattered the sacred Tablets.

God, ever merciful, gave Moses another chance. He tasked him with educating his followers in respect for the Divine. Moses, with a thunderous voice, sternly rebuked the people. Impressed by his effective eloquence, God summoned him once again to Mount Sinai and handed him a second set of the sacred code. The people were divided into 12 tribes, and the Tablets of the Law were placed in a tabernacle at the center of their place of worship. All seemed well.

But human demands are relentless. The heat was oppressive, they were thirsty, and there was no water. The Almighty owed them sustenance. Once more, Moses intervened with the Creator, who commanded him to gently touch a particular rock with his staff so that a spring would flow forth. But Moses, exhausted and frustrated from playing intermediary, struck the rock instead of gently touching it. The celestial disgrace descended upon him. His fate was sealed. He would lead his brethren to the gates of the Promised Land, glimpse the land of Canaan, but never set foot in it.

Thus, the Exodus of the Jewish people from Egypt came to an end.

As a Christian, I personally see nothing in the story of Moses and the Exodus from Egypt that could explain the origins of antisemitism. There is no reason to envy the Jewish people for finding a guide who tirelessly worked to help his brothers escape a land where they were subjugated by authoritarian and ungrateful pharaohs. Moses is an incredible figure—resolute and enduring in the face of the repeated trials sent to him by his ever-good God. How could one not admire this man who embodies courage and tenacity?

In any case, Moses, with his energy and determination, cannot possibly inspire any form of ostracism. This resilient Jew who overcomes his fears to save his people deserves nothing but respect. And as for those brave Jewish people, wandering for years before finally settling in Canaan, they did nothing that could provoke antisemitism.

As someone who is both Catholic and Protestant—a person like any other—I fail to see how the Jewish people behaved badly or why they became the world’s favorite target. Perhaps I am not well-informed enough, and if any of you, my friends, think differently, please share your thoughts with me. Whatever your opinion, I look forward to hearing from you.

END OF EPISODE 2

We are all relegated to the solitude of lockdown due to Covid-19, not exactly on equal footing, because our discomfort strongly depends on the size of the apartment in which we are confined. Still, it is morally trying for everyone! A reason to return to my “Abraham et Anne-Marie” site and resume my quest for truth about the foundations of antisemitism, which is making a strong comeback during the Coronavirus epidemic. A month ago, before the lockdown, I was certain that this time, however fatal it might be, there was no risk of seeking someone to blame for a natural disaster. A terrible mistake! Nothing has changed! Irreversibly, the Jew remains solely responsible for the curses that heaven sends down upon the world.

Hundreds of antisemitic tweets published, YouTube videos viewed thousands of times, liked by thousands of followers, widely shared, until the Bureau National de Vigilance Contre l’Antisémitisme (BNVCA) filed a complaint with the Public Prosecutor of Paris, who ordered their removal. A normal decision, but not sufficient to forgive what has been said and written.

Each of us must become aware of the hatred unleashed in horrible terms on social networks, especially on Facebook, when Alain Mondino relayed a racist video called “Corona virus pour Goy,” which promotes the antisemitic and conspiratorial “theory” that the Coronavirus was developed by Jews in order to establish their supremacy. Eternal repetition!

The disgraceful stereotype that “the Jew is rich” is firmly entrenched in people’s minds. The Covid-19 pandemic, well, of course! It’s “the fault” of wealthy, well-to-do international Jewry, the Jews who promote globalized capitalism and want to profit from the situation. Just as the Black Plague had excited hatred and fury against the Jews from 1347 to 1352, today, in 2020, the Covid-19 epidemic provides yet another opportunity to criminalize them.

We must all fight against the vile resurgence of antisemitism that has recently manifested itself with a frightening violence: Horrible insults… Hackneyed jokes about noses, in the style of 1930s caricatures bearing the French Republic’s logo!… Publications worthy of Nazi newspapers; on what grounds are family names cited without the authorization of the person who bears them?! We must demolish the conspiracy theories spread without the slightest basis other than harming people who are themselves victims of the epidemic. We must refuse this flood of remarks, gestures, repulsive old clichés, and so-called witty remarks intended to be funny, like: “Maréchal au secours… Ah Ah!” Pathetic!

I, Anne-Marie Mitterrand, who have so often denounced the silent indifference of Europeans in ’40, cannot, in turn, resign myself to remain silent. At my modest level, I want to say NO. The comments I have found on social networks are, alas, not wild inventions. Shame on those who wrote them, shame also on the large number of people who approved them. Certainly, everyone has better things to do than dwell on the antisemitism problem, which is deemed insoluble anyway, it is added, to keep one’s conscience clear. The hatred of Jews transcends eras, flares up, and is expressed maliciously whenever a calamity befalls this lowly earth; once again the responsibility falls on the Jews. We must no longer accept this inevitability.

– France, a country of denial – Let us reject this assertion. Silence implies consent. Let’s no longer be consenting. Let’s not allow Messrs. Soral… Dieudonné… Mondino… and other extremist leftists to shape our thinking. No matter what religion one belongs to, we must remain human beings, brothers in humanity. But have we ever truly been so? Unfortunately, not always! I had better remain silent now, because the more I write, the more my anger rises. Say nothing… Say nothing… they tell me. But yes, we must speak and shout and scream louder than the bastards! We, the non-Jews of all countries, must not remain silent… Enough with political correctness… Jesus was Jewish… Catholics venerate him; they can awaken to defend his people. We will not have the excuse of ignorance since we know what happened during the last war. It is our duty to prevent antisemitism from growing and spreading. A state of affairs that does not date from today.

More than 3,500 years ago, people were already accusing the “cursed race” of every evil, long before the time when Moses led the people of Israel out of Egypt toward the Promised Land, the land of Canaan, whose access would be forever denied to him. In His immense goodness, God offered Moses a breathtaking view of the Promised Land from the summit of Mount Nebo, in Jordan, revealing a panorama of the land of Canaan and, to the north, a vista overlooking the Jordan Valley. On that mountain, the baby once saved from the waters of the Nile ended his days peacefully. Moses has white hair, Moses has done his job, Moses is waiting for death. And he will wait a long time before joining God at the venerable age of 120, around 1270 BC. No, it cannot be our dear Moses who sparked the horrible anti-Semitism that has always raged under any pretext.

It was during this period that the region experienced numerous conflicts between the houses of Israel and Judah, against the various kingdoms and tribes surrounding them: Moab and Edom, today’s Jordan, Ammon and Aram-Damascus, which became Syria, and the Arab, Philistine, and Aramean tribes who endlessly disputed the region occupied by the Jews! Multiple wars without winners or losers. Is it from that time that the people of Israel have been accused of seeking to conquer this part of the Mediterranean basin? Could this be the basis of anti-Zionism?

These hostilities were waged in a disorganized and inefficient manner by the biblical judges who continued to govern the tribes of Israel from the conquest of Canaan, achieved by Joshua, until the formation of the first kingdom of Israel and Judah.

God was starting to grow weary of these constant quarrels and planned to establish a king to resolve the situation. Who better than Samuel, the recognized kingmaker and a prophet by trade, to find the ideal candidate? One night, three times, a voice awakened him from his half-sleep. It was the Lord, growing impatient and somewhat nervous. Samuel, perplexed, wondered how to reply: “Speak, Lord, for Your servant is listening.” The good Lord then informed him that the wickedness of Eli’s sons had condemned their dynasty to destruction. Samuel would thus play a key role in the transition from tribal governance to the institution of a kingdom under Saul, the first king of Israel around 1020 BC, and later in passing the baton to David.

As Samuel grew old and his sons did not enjoy the people’s favor to succeed him, God advised him to give in to the demands of the people of Israel: “We want a real king!” Samuel then warned the Hebrews of the risks posed by a new king in power, but they, faced with the threat of the Philistines, needed a leader to secure their battles.

And so Saul came to power, handpicked by God. His first mission was immediately assigned: to kill every single Philistine without exception—those who had long oppressed the people of Israel. Driven out by the Egyptians, the Philistines had settled along the southwestern coast of Canaan, in a region stretching along the Mediterranean from present-day Gaza to Jaffa.

But the Almighty was displeased. Despite clear instructions, Saul dared to spare one man: the Philistine king. For this act of blatant disobedience, Saul was dismissed! Samuel was tasked with delivering his letter of termination. With Saul ousted, David was chosen as his successor. The youngest of eight brothers, David was just a simple shepherd when he brought down the Philistine giant Goliath with a single stone to the head. A fighter despite his youth! Finally satisfied, God sent Samuel to anoint David as king.

David then imposed a heavy tribute on Moab, exacting a significant tax, and waged a relentless war against the kingdom of Ammon. He seized enormous spoils of war and declared himself king. Establishing a prefecture in Damascus, he also conquered the kingdom of Edom, which he devastated. These conquests solidified Israel’s supremacy. During David’s reign, the wars between the surrounding nations did not cease—on the contrary, this conquering king inflamed the anger of the Arab peoples in the region.

What a character, this David! An unrepentant warrior and notorious philanderer, he even went so far as to dispose of a man under false pretenses to take his wife, Bathsheba, who bore him a son: Solomon.

At his death, David is at the head of a vast kingdom undergoing economic expansion. The royal finances, fueled by booty taken from the enemy and by the produce of the crown’s assets, appear quite considerable and very well managed. He dies at the age of 70, on the day of Shabbat, the first day of Shavuot. According to the Bible, he is buried “with his ancestors” in the City of David. His son Solomon will take advantage of the immense fortune amassed by his father to fulfill his dream: to build a temple dedicated to God, in Jerusalem.

So, were these the incessant wars, waged by a resolutely warlike king who does not concern himself with delicate diplomacy, that have engendered this anti-Semitism and anti-Judaism we are experiencing today, 3,000 years later?

END OF EPISODE 3

Since March, we have been cloistered in lockdown, and as a result, King Solomon and his peers have been relegated there as well. It is our duty to get them out of that state. The vacation period comes at just the right time; we have time to read and write. I am therefore resuming the 4th episode of “Abraham et Anne-Marie,” still in search of the causes that may have engendered anti-Semitism. We ended the 3rd episode with the death of King David in 970 BC, and the

However, we must remain clear-minded and question the historical accuracy of these facts. The various difficulties encountered during archaeological excavations have led to different chronologies and reconstructions, among which it is difficult to decide.

According to the traditional approach, charismatic leaders such as Saul, David, and Solomon established the first centralized state in the 10th century B.C. According to other theories, this unified monarchy has no historical foundation. Thus, according to Thomas Römer: “the idea of a great united kingdom under David and Solomon owes more to the imagination of the biblical authors than to historical reality.” Meanwhile, for the Israeli archaeologist Israel Finkelstein, the earliest Israelite leaders only headed chiefdoms without advanced administration. They were not behind any monumental architecture, which appeared in Israel much later. For Amihai Mazar, it is impossible to distinguish the archaeological strata belonging to the 10th century B.C. from those of the 9th century B.C.

Following the theology of the Book of Kings, the monarchy is decided by the national god Yahweh, who has no name but a very competent intermediary: the prophet Samuel. The Bible explains that the Kingdom of Israel was formed after the assembly at Shechem, the city where God spoke to Abraham (mentioned in our first episode) 1,000 years before the reign of King Solomon. At the death of the latter, the Kingdom of Israel led by Jeroboam, a former exile in Egypt, and the Kingdom of Judah led by Solomon’s son Rehoboam, experienced a clash, and Israel prevailed. The new kingdom gathered ten Israelite tribes, facing Rehoboam, the legitimate successor of the Davidic dynasty, who now ruled only over the tribes of Judah, Benjamin, and the priests of the Temple of Jerusalem. In 933 B.C., the separation between the two brotherly kingdoms—Israel and Judah—was complete. Two desert expanses without any real border.

The story as told in the Old Testament portrays this act as apostasy and betrayal against Yahweh. The dynasty of King David is seen as the guarantor of the connection with God, and Jerusalem holds a central place in this relationship. If a kingdom was indeed established by David and Solomon over the entirety of the land of Israel, the northern secession reveals that this kingdom lacked unity, as the structure put in place by David and Solomon failed to unite the northern and southern tribes. As a result, the monarchy collapsed upon the death of the last of the great kings.

Thereafter, a series of successors came to power in disarray until the rise of Omri, the great-great-great-grandson of Solomon, in 876 BCE.

THE DYNASTY OF OMRI

From the 9th century BCE onward, archaeological evidence unambiguously confirms the existence of the northern kingdom of Israel.

In the 9th century BCE, the Omride dynasty transformed the kingdom of Israel into a regional power through Omri’s policy of alliances with neighboring kingdoms. It was Omri, not David as depicted in the Bible, who was the true conquering king. However, the new nation faced threats from the east due to the expansion of Assyria, a region now encompassing northern Iraq and northeastern Syria. At the Battle of Qarqar, Omri and a coalition of small Levantine states attempted to halt the advance of the Assyrian kingdom under Shalmaneser III.

Despite the many accomplishments of Ahab, Omri’s eldest son, the Bible portrays him as a weak king, accused of promoting the worship of the Canaanite god Baal and being in constant conflict with the prophet Elijah. Yet, the achievements of the early Omrides are undeniable. Their newfound power is reflected in monumental architecture: magnificent constructions at major northern sites such as Megiddo, Jezreel, and Hazor. In Samaria, the largest palace of the Iron Age in the Levant was built. Numerous fortified complexes reinforced the prestige of the royal dynasty.

The expansionist policies of the kingdom of Israel, however, collided with the Aramean forces of the emerging kingdom of Damascus, with which it competed. The growing power of Aram—modern-day Syria—brought an end to Israel’s development. Around 840 BCE, the Aramean king Hazael regained control of the northeastern territories and destroyed the Israelite centers in the valleys. Weakened by Aram’s assaults, the territory of Israel was reduced to the area surrounding Samaria, located in the heart of modern-day Israel, an area scarcely larger than Paris.

Is this the end of the state of Israel? Is this the beginning of antisemitism? Humans have always been belligerent, engaging in conflicts throughout history without necessarily giving rise to such persistent and hateful racism.

END OF EPISODE 4

We ended the last episode with the destruction of the Israelite centers in the valleys by the Aramean king Hazael in the 9th century BCE. The land of Israel was reduced to the region around Samaria, located in the heart of modern-day Israel.

Barely a century later, in the 8th century BCE, according to legend, the two brothers Remus and Romulus founded Rome. Over the centuries, the city would expand its influence over the world, first as a monarchy, then as a republic, and finally as an empire, which would conquer many other peoples before its eventual fall in 476 CE.

During this time, the Romans became the masters of the Mediterranean basin, including Judea, Syria, and Palestine, as well as the Cathars. Crushed by the military power of the occupiers, the local inhabitants reluctantly submitted to this invasion by a people who imposed their laws and numerous gods. The Jews, monotheists since the time of Abraham, were outraged, deeply shocked, and refused to bow to such a great affront by converting.

Until this point, most pagan writers, such as the Greeks Aristotle, Theophrastus, Clearchus of Soli, and others, spoke positively about the Hebrews. Then, a surprising shift occurred—one that remains unexplained to this day: most mentions of the Jewish people became slanderous, openly encouraging their ostracization.

Suddenly, « the Jew » was severely discredited, labeled as a misanthrope and wicked, accused of refusing to conform to laws and legislation, and described as staunchly resistant to social norms.

Greek historians during the Hellenistic period claimed, « If Jerusalem was so easily conquered by Greek kings in 320 BCE, it was because the Jews observed the Sabbath. » This assertion ridiculed Jewish practices, portraying them as absurd and pointing to their customs as a source of contempt. Thus, hatred and distrust toward the Jewish people began to spread.

Hecataeus of Abdera, a Greek historian from the 3rd century BCE, dared to write that “Moses, to ensure his people would not forget their exile, instituted for them an antisocial and inhospitable way of life.”

A few decades later, in 167 BCE, Greek King Antiochus IV, in his ambition to expand his kingdom and counter the growing threat of Roman conquest, first turned his attention to diminishing Jewish influence within his own territories.

This villain desecrated the Temple of Jerusalem, banned Jewish religious practices such as circumcision, the observance of the Sabbath, and the study of Hebrew texts. This was the first official edict of oppression against the Jewish people, remaining in effect during the period when Ancient Greece dominated the Eastern Mediterranean—a blatant act of antisemitism. This law triggered a revolt in Judea led by the Maccabees, the first Jewish family to resist the Greek policy of assimilation. This rebellion was met with brutal punishment from the Greek king.

Later, other statements propagating prejudices against Jews can be found in the writings of some Greek or Roman pagan authors. However, the first appearance of antisemitism remains a subject of debate among scholars, largely because writers use different definitions of antisemitism: anti-Zionism, anti-Judaism, religious antisemitism—all terms used to describe hostility toward Judaism as a religion rather than explicitly racial hatred.

It was with the rise of the Roman Empire that a more formalized antisemitism emerged, later echoed across medieval Europe. I believe the oppression of Jews can first be observed in Egypt 300 years before our era and was solidified in 167 BCE with the initial decrees challenging Jewish traditions. The only difference today is that Jews and Christians often face similar treatment. Isn’t it high time that we—together—stand united? Agreed?

END OF EPISODE 5

At the end of Episode 5 of the Abraham and Anne-Marie series, hostility toward the Jews became evident through the rejection of their traditions: In 139 BCE, the Jews were expelled from Alexandria after being accused of proselytism.

Still seeking the causes of antisemitism, we begin the 6th episode in the year 12 CE, during the reign of Gaius Caligula, Roman emperor from 12 to 41 CE, when Rome ruled the world unchallenged. In the year 19 CE, as had occurred for similar reasons over a century before Jesus, the Jews were once again expelled from Alexandria under Tiberius. Later, in the year 38 CE, they fell victim to aggression incited by a group of Hellenized Egyptians. Ostracism against the Jews began to take root. This led to pillaging and massacres—the first recorded pogrom in history—which culminated in the forced confinement of Jews in a ghetto. This event marked the beginning of two millennia of forced segregation endured by Jewish communities.

The Hebrew people showed immense courage in holding steadfast to their religious convictions and customs, yet they did not seek to impose them by force. It is to their credit that they remained faithful to their faith despite the dangers they faced. Surely, this was no reason to resent the Jewish community or to confine them to restricted spaces.

The aversion toward the Jews was fueled by slanderous beliefs, unshakable prejudices, and vile accusations, such as the charge of being « Christ-killers. » This accusation stemmed from the unfortunate case of Jesus, who was cowardly abandoned by Pontius Pilate, the prefect of Judea, who ordered the execution and crucifixion of this Jewish preacher. Pilate then « washed his hands of it » and left the deed to his Roman subordinates.

The successor of Caligula, Emperor Claudius, who reigned from 41 to 54 CE, tried to address these tensions. He suppressed riots and issued two edicts: one reaffirmed the rights of the Jews of Alexandria to maintain their religion and their communal leader while ordering both sides to keep the peace. In another edict, published throughout the empire, Claudius extended the same privileges to Jews in other parts of the Roman Empire. He also sided with the Jews in their dispute with the Samaritans and exiled the sitting procurator.

Influenced by his friendship with the family of the famous general Agrippa, Claudius took measures to safeguard Jewish rights across the empire. He suppressed anti-Jewish disturbances in Alexandria and restored their privileges, showing a degree of protection for Jewish communities in an otherwise hostile environment.

The next ruler after Claudius was Nero, who reigned from 54 to 68 CE. Nero was recognized by both Jews and Christians as a persecutor of their faiths, with Christians often identifying him as the Antichrist.

The Great Revolt broke out in Judea during the summer of 66 CE, a highly complex event fueled by various motivations and manipulations. These included increased taxation, terrorism by the Sicarii (extremist Jewish dissidents), counter-terrorism by the Romans, and tensions between the lower and upper echelons of the Jewish clergy. These factors, combined with apocalyptic preaching, created a potent mix that successfully mobilized the masses.

Once the Romans were defeated and the initial counteroffensive repelled, the local population fractured into multiple groups, unable to unify. By the winter of 68 CE, these internal disputes escalated into a full-blown civil war, plunging the region into bloodshed. Tasked by Nero with quelling the uprising, General Vespasian surrounded Jerusalem, opting to wait until the Jews exhausted their resources and strength.

In the final weeks of the siege, infighting among rival factions led to the catastrophic burning of the city’s food supplies. Despite fierce resistance, the city eventually fell. In 70 CE, a Roman general named Titus led the legions to reconquer Jerusalem. During the brutal street battles, the city was destroyed, and the Second Temple of Jerusalem, also known as Herod’s Temple, was set ablaze.

Giving up, collapsing, and crying over defeat is not part of the Jewish mentality. The Jews know how to rise again, even under Roman domination. They resumed their activities and worked tirelessly to improve their situation. Fueled by envy and jealousy, antisemitism grew harsher. The Jews were accused of all sorts of sins: greed, dishonesty—all thieves! These accusations, amplified by slander and lies over time, have persisted to this day.

Many of you are familiar with the events of that era in detail, but I believe that summarizing them as I do on my site, Abraham and Anne-Marie, can help us stand together against antisemitism, which continues to manifest violently thousands of years later. Today, in 2021, Israel is being bombarded with rockets, and when Israelis respond, the entire world accuses them of warmongering.

Just yesterday, a self-righteous man called me while I was deeply shaken by terrible news from Tel Aviv. Two close friends had died in the ongoing conflicts in Israel. He responded: « The Jews are reaping what they sowed. » What fault are they guilty of? In what circumstance? Should they simply allow themselves to be attacked—without saying a word? Without doing anything?

END OF EPISODE 6

With the 7th episode, we see that the fall of Jerusalem wasn’t enough for the Romans—they wanted more, they wanted total victory. The Jewish-Roman war continued. Although the Jews resisted and fought fiercely to defend their homeland, the Romans invaded various territories near Bethlehem and others located on the eastern shore of the Dead Sea. After driving the Jews out, the Roman army, led by Titus, launched an assault on Palestine, captured Masada, and secured victory in 74 CE.

Rather than surrender, many Jews chose to commit suicide with their wives and children, while others ventured into the unknown.

After the fall of Jerusalem and then Masada, the Diaspora intensified even more than it had in the 6th century BCE. This dispersion contributed to the spread of Jewish culture across many regions of the Roman Empire, particularly in Egypt, Alexandria, and other major Mediterranean cities such as Rome, Antioch, and Carthage. The Jewish communities living in these areas maintained strong ties to Jerusalem and their religious roots, despite the loss of their Temple.

The Jewish territory became a Roman imperial province—Judea—directly governed by Emperor Titus.

The Jews retained a few strongholds, including Herodium, a palace-fortress where Herod was buried, located on the eastern shore of the Dead Sea. Roman army veterans established several colonies in these areas.

The fall of Jerusalem in 70 CE did not mark the end of the war. Emperor Titus ordered his army to eliminate the remaining pockets of resistance in Israel. It took three years before the new Roman leader, Flavius Silva, managed to capture Masada, another palace-fortress of King Herod situated above the Dead Sea. Many Jews, in deep despair, chose to commit suicide with their families rather than surrender as cowards. Others, detained in Caesarea, faced the cruel power of Titus, who used them as gladiators in circus games, pitting them against wild animals like lions or tigers. These brutal spectacles entertained the Roman population, who laughed and cheered at the suffering.

-Today, it seems little has changed. Hamas terrorists hunt down young Jews like prey, celebrating their killings with cries of joy.-

After 74 CE, the Jews endured severe Roman repression and social changes. The Roman colonization of Judea, now governed by a Roman procurator, imposed Roman administration, laws, and reinforced military presence to prevent further revolts. Under Roman rule, Judean cities were forced to adopt the occupier’s architecture, culture, and religion. Additionally, Jews faced increasingly heavy taxes to fund the Temple of Jupiter in Rome, built to replace the looted Temple of Jerusalem, whose treasures—including a table, gold candlesticks, and torches—had been stolen.

However, during the 80s–90s CE, the Jewish Diaspora grew, marking the beginning of community rebuilding. Scattered Jews formed vibrant communities across the Empire. Persistent and resilient, Jews in cities like Rome, Alexandria, and Antioch continued to practice their faith and uphold their traditions. Despite the Temple’s destruction, they organized around synagogues, which became centers for religious and communal life. Rabbis structured the study of the Torah and Jewish laws, adapting Judaism for survival. Resilience remains one of the greatest strengths of the Jewish people.

END OF EPISODE 7

As you have seen in this 7th episode of “Abraham and Anne-Marie,” the Jewish people have endured antisemitism continuously since the beginning of our era. Will it continue to grow, or will it gradually fade over time? We will uncover this in the upcoming episodes. Like you, I dare to hope that the undeniable truths discussed on this site will help us rise above the antisemitism that has plagued the world for centuries.

Thank you for your attention, and I send you all my friendship. Anne-Marie Mitterrand

After the fall of Masada in 74 AD, the last Jewish fortress to fall into Roman hands, Judea sinks into silence and desolation. The legions of Emperor Vespasian, commanded by his son Titus, have destroyed Jerusalem, burned the Temple, and scattered the population. Judea becomes an imperial province directly administered by Rome. Taxes rise, pagan cults impose themselves, and the army occupies every crossroads. The Jewish people seem annihilated. Yet, beneath the ruins, something resists: faith. Whatever happens, the Jews will not betray their religion and their culture, which they wish to transmit until the end of the world.
Deprived of Temple and priests, the Jews decide to save their religion by transforming it. Under the direction of the sage Yohanan ben Zakkai, Father of Rabbinic Judaism, one of the great scholars of the 1st century, a group of masters is founded around 90 AD, and a school in Yavneh, a small coastal town located south of Jaffa, which becomes the intellectual heart of the Jewish people in exile. Around him, other scholars, such as Rabban Gamaliel II, grandson of the famous Gamaliel mentioned in the Gospels, reorganize the spiritual life of the people. Reading, prayer, and study replace sacrifices. It is there that rabbinic Judaism is born, the Judaism of speech, transmission, and study: a Judaism without a Temple, but living, rooted in synagogues and collective memory. Never would a Jew dare betray this rabbi with such a moving and disoriented gaze.

Meanwhile, Rome prospers. New emperors succeed one another: Trajan, then Hadrian in 117 AD. The latter, cultivated, passionate about architecture and order, decides to impose the Roman peace by force. He dreams of a unified, Romanized empire without local resistance. In Judea, he forbids certain Jewish practices, notably circumcision, which he considers a barbaric mutilation. It is true that this practice may seem somewhat savage when it is applied to one’s own child eight days after his birth.

To complete his work, Hadrian keeps his authority in order to rebuild Jerusalem in the image of Rome: straight streets, pagan temples, imperial statues. The new city is to be called Aelia Capitolina (Aelia being the name of his family, Capitolina in honor of the god Jupiter Capitolinus).

This project triggers fury. How could one accept that the most sacred place in Judaism become a pagan sanctuary? In 132 AD, anger erupts. At the head of the insurgents is Shimon Bar Kokhba, a young and courageous military leader, admired for his charisma and strategic sense.
The great rabbi Akiva ben Yosef, one of the most respected of his time, sees in him the Messiah of Israel and calls upon the people to follow him. The uprising spreads: entire villages join the resistance, workshops forge weapons, and coins are minted in the name of “The Freedom of Israel” with inscriptions in Hebrew and symbols of the Temple — proof of a people who still wanted to believe in its rebirth. For three years, Judea rises up and manages to push back several Roman legions. It must be admitted that the coin is dazzling!

But Rome never forgets an humiliation. Emperor Hadrian then sends his general Sextus Julius Severus, known for his brutality, at the head of tens of thousands of soldiers coming from Egypt, Syria, and even Britain. The repression is of unheard-of cruelty. The cities of Jewish populations are burned, the fields razed, the inhabitants massacred. The historian Cassius Dio reports that more than 580,000 Jews were killed and hundreds of villages destroyed. In 135 AD, the revolt is crushed. Bar Kokhba dies in combat, Rabbi Akiva is tortured then executed, and the survivors are reduced to slavery. This emperor has the soul of a torturer. To complete the punishment, he has the inhuman audacity to transform Judea definitively.

Jerusalem is renamed Aelia Capitolina, the province becomes Syria Palaestina, as if to erase even the name of Israel. On the site of the Temple, a sanctuary dedicated to Jupiter is erected. Jews are forbidden access to Jerusalem, except one day a year, to come and weep over the ruins of their holy city. Those who attempt to return risk death.

And yet, the Jewish people survive. Scattered in Alexandria, Antioch, Babylon, or Rome, the exiles found synagogues, schools, and houses of study. The Torah becomes their territory, prayer their home, memory their capital. Where Rome wanted to impose silence, speech continues.
The story of a people who refuse to disappear begins again. The Jewish people do not allow themselves to be defeated no matter what happens.

End of episode 8

In 135 after Jesus Christ, following the failure of the revolt led by Bar Kokhba, the great leader of the Jewish community, often regarded as the new Messiah.

For three years, the Jewish people, whom the Roman Empire believed to be under its authority, seized territories, expelled Roman garrisons, struck their own currency, and dared to proclaim their independence once again. For Rome, this was unacceptable. One does not rise up against the Empire, especially not a second time.

Emperor Hadrian, a man of order and discipline, could not tolerate a people already defeated raising its head again. This time, it was no longer merely a matter of suppressing an insurrection, but of erasing any idea of Jewish sovereignty. Rome wanted this people to understand that there was no longer any political place for them on this land.

The Romans removed Judea from the maps. Its name was erased and replaced by Syria Palaestina. Jerusalem was no longer Jerusalem, but renamed Aelia Capitolina, a Roman and pagan city, rebuilt in the image of Rome, according to the imperial standards imposed by the victors. Where the Jewish Temple once stood, a Roman sanctuary rose, dedicated to Jupiter.

Aelia Capitolina

The message was clear, brutal, and unambiguous. Jews were forbidden access to their city, on pain of death. Only one tolerance remained, almost cruel: once a year, they were allowed to return to weep over their ruins. A people without a city. A people without a Temple. A people without a name on their own land.

Rome believed it had won. Once again, Rome was mistaken.
The Jews did not disappear. They moved. They settled elsewhere, where they were accepted. In Galilee, in the north. In Babylonia, far to the east. In Egypt, in Alexandria. In Syria, in Antioch, even as far as Rome itself, at the heart of the Empire.
The Jewish people no longer had an army, no longer a king, no longer a sanctuary. But they had what was essential: memory. The Law. Transmission.
They did what they had always known how to do: teach their children, pray, work, found families — in short, they clung to their origins.
Judaism then entered a decisive period of its history. There was no longer an altar; prayer became the sole center of their religion. There were no longer sacrifices; study remained sacred. The priests disappeared; the rabbis took over. Synagogues replaced the Temple. Faith was no longer displayed; it was lived — it withdrew, certainly, but did not fade away. Jews transformed their worship in order to survive, discreetly, patiently, stubbornly.

Toward the end of the 2nd century, around the year 200, a fundamental act was carried out: the Mishnah was written on parchment.

Until then, the oral law had been transmitted by word of mouth, from master to disciple; it was now fixed on paper forever. This was not a simple act of writing. It was an act of peaceful resistance. An act of confidence as well. As if this people were saying to the world: you may destroy our cities, burn our stones, scatter our families, but you will not destroy our memory.

Meanwhile, the Roman Empire was going through a period of profound instability. The third century was a century of crises, wars, insecurity, and emperors overthrown one after another. The Roman world wavered, fearful, mistrustful, and suspicious.
It found it hard to accept that the Jews escaped it, and resisted it through their will to live.

The Jews thus became a tolerated but monitored people. They no longer rebelled. They no longer took up arms. They simply lived. But their religious fidelity was puzzling. How could one understand that a people defeated for so long refused to blend into the mass? Why did they not convert? Why did they persist in living differently? Why did they remain faithful to their ancient law when everything around them was changing?

At the same time, another reality was gaining momentum: Christianity. A religion born from Judaism, but turned toward all peoples. In the 2nd and 3rd centuries, Christians were still a minority, persecuted by Roman society, whose faith was polytheistic and which viewed the gatherings of the followers of Christ as a kind of Jewish sect. They lived on the margins, like the Jews. But a difference gradually emerged. Christians, unlike Jews, engaged in proselytism and sought to convince, to rally, to convert. Their message was meant to be universal.
Where Judaism transmits, Christianity imposes.

Gradually, a separation took place. At first it was discreet, almost invisible. Then it became concrete. To assert their identity, Christians distinguished themselves from those from whom they came. Although Judaism was their root, it gradually appeared to them as a counterexample. What had been filiation became opposition: a spiritual divergence emerged between Christians and Jews.

We are still far from organized persecutions. But something had changed at a deep level. Hostility was no longer military. It became religious, then cultural. It insinuated itself into words, into sermons, into mentalities. The Jew was no longer merely the one defeated by the Romans, but the one who sought to rebuild alone.
Then a major political turning point occurred.

In 313, the Edict of Milan granted Christians freedom of worship. Christianity emerged from clandestinity. It entered the city, organized itself, and took its place within the Empire. Emperor Constantine (Roman emperor from 306 to 337 AD) observed the rise of Christianity in his Empire with attention. He saw in it a possible factor of unity for his weakened, divided Empire, anxious about its future.

The Jews, for their part, remained on the sidelines. They did not take part in the rise of Christianity. They continued on their path, faithful to their Law, to their rhythm, to their memory. This fidelity became increasingly visible, but increasingly isolated.
The Jewish people asserted their rebirth.

Finally, in 325, Constantine convened the Council of Nicaea, an assembly of Christian bishops meeting in Nicaea in Bithynia in order to establish a common faith for Christians and avoid internal divisions. Among the decisions taken, one was highly symbolic: the desire to clearly detach from the Jewish calendar, particularly concerning the date of Easter. This choice, seemingly technical, in reality marked a profound rupture.

This detail is important. It signifies that two paths issuing from the same source had definitively separated. Judaism became the old covenant. Christianity asserted itself as the new one. From that point on, Jews were no longer simply different. They became external to the dominant religious order. Tolerated, certainly. But alone.

In analyzing this period, it is clear that antisemitism was taking shape. After the Roman sword came suspicion. After destruction came distancing. Nothing brutal. Nothing spectacular. But something profoundly durable that settled in slowly, almost imperceptibly.

In the next episode, we will see how, after 325, this difference gradually turned into exclusion, then into open persecution, at the heart of Christian Europe.

End of episode 9