What Would the Chofetz Chaim Say?
By RACHEL SOMERSTEIN
By the early 90s, Philip Roth had been shocking readers for
decades with his depictions of Jewish-Americans. Among his more controversial
efforts were Goodbye, Columbus,
which won the National Book Award in 1960, and, most famously, Portnoy's Complaint, which provoked
widespread outrage for its explicit scenes of masturbation. For these and other
works, Roth had been called an anti-Semite, a self-hating Jew, and worse. So perhaps one can see the 1993
publication of Operation Shylock,
Roth's novel that prominently features the idea of loshon hora—the prohibition against making derogatory remarks,
better known as slander—as an inevitable product of the same mind that created,
and suffered for, the many provocative works that came before it.
Operation Shylock unfolds in
Jerusalem, where the main character, Philip Roth, is dispatched to interview
fellow novelist Aharon Appelfeld.
Complicating his assignment is that he is being impersonated by a man advancing
Diasporism, an anti-Zionist movement that advocates the resettlement of Jews to
Europe from Israel. The impersonator—who calls himself Philip Roth but whom the
real Roth refers to as Moishe Pipik—haunts Roth in mind and deed. Harangues,
desperate letters, and bizarre confrontations ensue, while in the background
the trial of John Demjanjuk, a Ukrainian-born, naturalized U.S. citizen accused
of operating the gas chamber at Treblinka, growls on.
What heightens the theme of loshon hora
in Operation Shylock is that many of
the events in the book took place. The trial of Demjanjuk is absolutely real,
and in places Roth reports its proceedings verbatim. Two chapters feature the
Roth interviewing Appelfeld, dialogue that is excerpted from a formal interview
published in the New York Times in
1988. Even more perplexing is that Roth claimed that the book is, essentially,
nonfiction. "Look, let me tell you something that a lot of people have
trouble believing. This happened," he told the New York Times in 1993. "When I wrote Portnoy's Complaint, everybody was sure it was me, but I told them
it wasn't.... And now when I tell the truth, they all insist that I made it
up."
The layers of loshon hora in Operation Shylock are multitudinous, as
complex and interwoven as the plot itself. They begin with the impersonator,
who pretends to be the writer Philip Roth and, under those auspices, grants
interviews to Israeli newspapers about Diasporism. Although Roth's wife,
Claire, warns him not to get involved (fortunately for the sake of the plot,
she travels to Kenya and never returns), Roth quickly becomes enmeshed in the
scandal. He phones his impersonator and pretends to be a journalist ("You
are a Jew," he tells him, "who in the past has been criticized by
Jewish groups for your 'self-hatred' and your 'anti-Semitism'"). But
Roth's tongue-in-cheek attitude soon gives way to an almost total suspension of
his own identity—a fine example of how a person can be entirely consumed by
gossip.
Roth's indulgence in loshon hora—and
by extension, his loss of self—occur by increments. First he accepts a donation
from a man named Smilesburger for the Diasporist movement: "There was more
than enough time to stop him and direct his contribution to the legitimate
recipient," writes Roth, "but instead I allowed him to hand it to
me." After Smilesburger departs, Roth opens the envelope and finds a check
for a million dollars. Soon Roth is actively pretending to be his impostor,
espousing his ideas about Diasporism. In so doing, he subjects a host of other
characters to his identity play, including George Ziad, an old friend who lives
in the West Bank; a young Israeli army lieutenant who "that very afternoon
had read the whole of The Ghost Writer";
and finally even Jinx Possesski, the impostor's girlfriend.
Only when Roth's cousin Apter is harmed does Roth pause to acknowledge the harm
wrought by so much talk. Roth's impersonator has invited Apter—a Holocaust
survivor and Jerusalem resident who, terrified of Arab violence, refuses to
leave his home—to move into his (Roth's) home in Connecticut. When Roth finds
out, he is enraged. "Did you really do this to him?" Roth thinks.
"Did you really excite in this banished being who can barely maintain his
equilibrium the beautiful vision of an American Gan Eden where he will be saved from the blight and din of the
past?... Is there nothing that you will not pollute with your mouth?" This
instance of real, personal harm exerted on an innocent bystander supersedes all
of the public lies and machinations that have come before. Roth concludes,
"I imagined myself ripping the tongue out of Pipik's mouth with my own two
hands." But Roth's outrage is not sufficient to stop the engine of
slander; characters and institutions continue to be felled by it.
It is left to Smilesburger, the writer of the million-dollar check (who turns
out to be a Mossad agent) to call loshon
hora by its proper name, which he does in a speech to Roth about the
origins and parameters of the sin. But what Smilesburger really wants is for
Roth to join an operation aimed at discovering whether Jews funnel money to the
PLO, and if so, who they are. Although Smilesburger's lesson on loshon hora reveals a breadth of Jewish
knowledge—he cites the Chofetz Chaim and the Vilna Gaon by heart—he undoes his
argument with a single, incontrovertible statement: "What is the worst
loshon hora compared to putting Jewish money in the pockets of Arab terrorists
who machine-gun our youngsters while they play on the beaches?" In other
words, in some cases—this being one of them—deed is worse than talk.
Ultimately, and in spite of all the bad brought about by loshon hora, Roth cooperates with Smilesburger. Of course, readers
never see the operation unfold; the events take place entirely off camera. Roth
had written about it, he tells us, but Smilesburger urged him to delete the
chapter describing those events, out of consideration for the protection of
others. At the novel's close, one is left to reflect that Roth is finally
following the Chofetz Chaim, who proclaimed that "'the world rests on
those who silence themselves during an argument'" and prayed "'that I
should say nothing that is unnecessary and that all my speech should be for the
sake of Heaven.'" But true to Roth's style, he's complying in a way that
scrambles the reader's expectations and with that coyness intrinsic to so much
of his art.