Oho, a new romance I see? I hope the Baganda Jews and the Hungarians would see eye to eye when it comes to such relationships. And nice to see the Malêverse being expanded once more. 
Malê Rising
- Thread starter Jonathan Edelstein
- Start date
There are so many odd Jewish communities scattered throughout the world in OTL, that an ATL Jewish community of Baganda with a penchant for syncretism just makes sense, somehow. Next to the Bazembe and the Malé, the Baganda are one of the peoples that would make an ISOT of this Africa to our world worthwhile.
If an ISOT really happened though, shit would hit the fan; what would the OTL French think of ATL Senegal being as French as Normandy? And the Russian far right would probably have a collective heart attack upon seeing very dark skinned Romanovs in Eritrea and Ethiopia.
Eritrea may be quite fair-er-skinned to a degree, though.There are so many odd Jewish communities scattered throughout the world in OTL, that an ATL Jewish community of Baganda with a penchant for syncretism just makes sense, somehow. Next to the Bazembe and the Malé, the Baganda are one of the peoples that would make an ISOT of this Africa to our world worthwhile.
If an ISOT really happened though, shit would hit the fan; what would the OTL French think of ATL Senegal being as French as Normandy? And the Russian far right would probably have a collective heart attack upon seeing very dark skinned Romanovs in Eritrea and Ethiopia.
Neither does Rabbi Kasztner.
Yes, it's fairly obvious where this story is going, though there will hopefully be some unexpected twists before it gets there. (BTW, note the title of the painting that illustrates the story.)
As to whether the Baganda and Hungarian Jews will see eye to eye, it's a given that some will and some won't. The cultural difference between the two is fairly wide, and the fact that the Baganda don't qualify as Jewish according to halacha (Jewish law) will be a non-trivial issue. The gap will narrow as the two communities get more used to each other, and the second and third generations will see many more intermarriages than the first, but in the 1960s (as shown here, for instance), the Hungarians will still be a distinct group within the Buganda kingdom.
There are so many odd Jewish communities scattered throughout the world in OTL, that an ATL Jewish community of Baganda with a penchant for syncretism just makes sense, somehow. Next to the Bazembe and the Malé, the Baganda are one of the peoples that would make an ISOT of this Africa to our world worthwhile.
The Baganda Jews have shown up a few times ITTL, and the origin story told by Senyange is essentially correct: Mutesa I decided that one way to reduce strife between religions was to adopt and embody all of them himself, and when he added Judaism to his list of faiths, some of his courtiers felt duty bound to give him a minyan (quorum of ten for Torah reading). It snowballed from there, and at the time of the story there are small communities of Jews, Buddhists, Hindus and Sikhs along with the much larger Christian, Muslim and animist populations.
Syncretism flows naturally from such an origin - the first Baganda Jews ITTL had a few texts to work from, but they filled in the gaps by imagining what Jews might do. By the early 1900s they have a lot more of the foundational texts, but the syncretic tendencies are too well-established to change, and besides, they don't really want to change them.
BTW, the Baganda ITTL are equal-opportunity religious improvers, and Judaism is by no means the only faith they have syncretized.
If an ISOT really happened though, shit would hit the fan; what would the OTL French think of ATL Senegal being as French as Normandy? And the Russian far right would probably have a collective heart attack upon seeing very dark skinned Romanovs in Eritrea and Ethiopia.
There might be some... interesting reactions to South Carolina too.
(ETA: I missed the part where you said that only Africa would be ISOTed. In that case, put yourself in the place of a Portuguese person who learns that there's a Portuguese legislature sitting in Luanda.)
By TTL's present, the difference between an Eritrean and a Russian (at least within Eritrea) is little more than what church you go to and what language you speak at home, so there has definitely been an admixture.
Thanks! As you can see, the timeline is finished but I still add stories to it sometimes, so it's still a living document and discussion or criticism of any part of it are always welcome. Also, my invitation to others to set stories in the Malêverse is still open - just run any ideas by me first.
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By the Water, part 2 of 2
Kintu and Nambi series, Gloria Ssali
Not all the talk was in whispers and not all of it was malicious. “You’re a lucky one,” said Mayanga the fish-captain – Rózsa still went down to the fishing-harbor sometimes, and Mayanga still clapped his hands and sang when she played. “To catch the eye of someone from the royal court – he’ll take good care of you.”
“He’s beautiful,” confided Birungi, who cleaned the precincts where the court musicians worked. “He will give you many children.” And even Kovacs the baker nodded his head and smiled when he saw her, and said “it’s not so bad to live in a palace.”
But more agreed with Aunt Gitta when she said that Rózsa and Senyange had nothing in common, and with Rabbi Kasztner when he said “that one isn’t a Jew.”
“Of course he is,” Rózsa answered, but she was less puzzled by Rabbi Kasztner’s warning than with the assumption that she and Senyange would marry. Everyone seemed to think so – some might approve and some might disapprove, but they all agreed on that. Only Rózsa wasn’t sure.
Every day now when she met Senyange at the musicians’ storeroom, she looked at him and wondered. He was a companion at work, yes, even a friend, but a husband? She searched under the numbness of war and exile and wondered if, maybe, there was something more.
When they played for the court, when they rehearsed new songs, she imagined herself married to him. She imagined them in a house together; she imagined children; she imagined herself in his bed, his musician’s hands caressing her and making her cry out in pleasure. It was hard sometimes for her to keep her attention on the music; she felt a warmth inside her, like feeling returning to a numbed limb, and instead of songs for the king or the men of the Lukiiko, she composed praise-songs to him in her mind. “Since I came into his home, I have never had a day without happiness…”
“Who are you singing to?” he asked one day, and she looked up into his laughing face and realized she had sung her praise-song out loud. She flushed deeply and could not speak, and that was all the answer he needed.
“To me? I don’t deserve such praise. But I’ve thought of songs for you.”
She was silent for a long moment, and he waited patiently for her to speak. “They say we will get married,” she said. “Everyone says it.”
“Do you say it?”
“I don’t know. But do you?”
Now it was his turn to be silent. “I was going to ask my uncle to negotiate with your Aunt Gitta for me. But only if you wanted it.”
“I…” She wanted to marry him, she knew, but war and loss and exile were still pushing her away. “I still don’t know.”
Senyange took one of her hands in both of his. “Sometimes, when we want answers to the questions of the soul, we go to the Ssese Islands. The lubaale live there, and the journey to see them sometimes tells us what we want to know.”
Rózsa wasn’t surprised to hear him talk of the lubaale – she’d long since learned that while the Baganda Jews might have no gods before God, their ancestral guardians existed below Him as they had existed beneath the creator deity of their fathers. And she wasn’t certain that a journey could tell her what she wanted to know – her exile from Temesvár and then from Hungary altogether had raised more questions than it had answered – she’d heard that Colonel Weisz had gone to the islands once and had found something that resembled peace.
“We can go,” she said, and then she asked, “tomorrow?”
And so, the next morning, they walked down from the Lubiri to the square that had become Kampala’s importers’ market, to where Ntege’s motor-wagon was waiting. Senyange had told her Ntege’s story on the way down the hill; like many young men during the Great War, he’d crossed Nalubale to enlist and seek his fortune, and he’d somehow returned with both the Iron Cross, Second Class and the Legion of Honor. He’d also got his hands on a surplus motor-wagon and a load of spare parts, spent his accumulated pay shipping them to Zanzibar, and got them across country in one piece. And now, with his French and German medals pinned to his kanzu, he stood welcoming passengers for the run to Entebbe.
The seats that Ntege had built into the back of the motor-wagon were already full, so Senyange spread a blanket on the wooden trailer that was obviously locally made. He took her hand to help her climb onto the trailer, and he kept it in his as the wagon pulled out of the market-square onto the Ntebe road.
A cheering crowd followed the wagon for the first mile or two; it was still a new thing in Kampala, and the people made a procession of its departure, walking alongside it and singing praises to Ntege and his fortunate passengers. The procession dispersed as the city fell away, and the wagon sped up as it drove past farmsteads and fishing villages. Nalubale’s waters sparkled in the distance, and the passengers opened packages of pounded yam and bottles of banana beer.
Inevitably, someone called for Rózsa to play her flute, and Senyange, the traitor, joined in the chanting of her name. She surrendered and played a dance she’d learned once from a Rom who’d passed through Temesvár, and as she did, it seemed that the journey really was changing her; the weight of Kampala’s busy streets and its eighty thousand people fell away.
It took an hour and a half to reach Entebbe, and Rózsa jumped off the trailer with the other passengers and followed Senyange to the beach. By the docks, Ntege negotiated for cargo to take back to Kampala, and a hundred meters further down the beach, Senyange bargained with a fisherman who was going to the islands. A moment later, the bargain made, he motioned to Rózsa and held the boat steady as she climbed aboard.
The passage across Nalubale took them even farther from the city; they were alone apart from the silent fisherman, with no noise but the calls of the shorebirds, and Rózsa realized that she couldn’t remember how long it had been since she’d known such silence. Senyange must have seen something in her face, because he said nothing: he let the silence lengthen, let the peace spread through her undisturbed.
The first of the islands were drawing close now, green jewels rising from the waters of the lake. Now Senyange did speak, telling Rózsa which one had the shrine to the guardian of the storms, which was home to a mosque, which to a synagogue.
“Are we going there?” she asked. “To the synagogue?”
“If you want. If you think the answer is there.”
She started to say yes, but then she saw another island nearer to them, one that was too small for a village and that had no boats drawn up on the beach. That was what she wanted, she realized – more privacy, more silence, more time for she and Senyange to be alone together. “That one,” she said, and a few minutes later, the fisherman had brought them to the beach, promising to return in two days.
It was early afternoon; they made camp, talked of small things for a while, swam together in the salt water and returned to build a fire as evening fell. They ate grilled fish and ugali and, from somewhere, Senyange produced another jar of banana beer. It was night when they had finished and they spread the blanket where the beach met the forest, and then she no longer had to imagine how his caresses might feel.
“Do you know the answer now?” he asked as they lay together after.
“Yes, I do,” she answered.
#
The week after they returned, Senyange’s uncle went to see Aunt Gitta. She sat him at the table without offering coffee or a meal, listened to him in silence, and started to send him away, but then he mentioned the bride-price. His family had thousands of cattle and lands that grew coffee and cotton, and the portion on offer was handsome.
Gitta paused with harsh words unsaid. The gifts Rózsa gave from the food and clothing she was allowed as a court musician were already enough to live on, and with the bride-price as well, Gitta would no longer have to take in washing. She could retire, she might no longer have to live like an exile…
“Have some coffee,” she said, and she invited Senyange’s uncle to come again.
On his second visit, the uncle brought Colonel Weisz. Rózsa and Senyange were at the table – it wasn’t customary, but sometimes customs were made – and Aunt Gitta, in the dress she’d brought from Budapest, served not only coffee but a dobos torte she’d spent most of the day making. The bargain began in earnest.
“They love each other…” Weisz said.
“What does that matter?”
“… and they can take good care of each other.”
“That matters, yes,” said Aunt Gitta. The Colonel, with his Miriam Kabonesa, might speak of love, but this would be a marriage, not a novel.
“They have an allowance from the court,” Senyange’s uncle said, “and I will set aside for their support…”
There was a rustle as the cloth over the doorway was pushed aside, and Rabbi Kasztner ducked under the lintel and entered the house. “I heard you invited him back,” he said. “Are you really thinking of this?”
“They want to marry…” Gitta began, seemingly oblivious to her own words of a moment before.
“That musician isn’t Jewish.”
“His mother and father are Jews,” said Rózsa.
“They just decided to be Jews. That doesn’t make them Jewish according to the law. So their son isn’t Jewish either, and if you marry him, your son will be a mamzer.”
Rózsa shrank from that word – it meant “bastard,” only more so – but Senyange threw his head back and laughed. “A mamzer can only be the child of two Jews, no? So if you say I’m not Jewish, then our child can’t be one.”
“It’s a forbidden marriage, and your child will be the child of a forbidden marriage.”
“It wasn’t forbidden to Colonel Weisz. And it isn’t forbidden to me.”
Senyange rose halfway from the floor, and Rózsa was suddenly afraid that he and the rabbi would come to blows. “In the Baganda synagogue,” she said hastily, “we are both Jews. The marriage wouldn’t be forbidden there, under their law.”
“You can’t just become a Muganda, any more than a Muganda could just become a Jew…”
“Why do I need to be a Muganda to marry under Baganda law? We live in their country.”
Rabbi Kasztner sank to his knees and looked around the room, seeing that everyone, even Gitta, was against him. “Yes,” he said. “We live in their country. So I will go to their court to prevent this.”
#
The case should have been heard in the Lubiri, but too many people wanted to come. The Hungarians came because the case involved two of their own; the Baganda came because the Hungarians were new and they sensed that this trial might determine their future. And some came simply because they knew Rózsa: Kovacs, Musoke, Mayanga and his family. Enough people made their way up Mengo hill that the hearing was moved by general agreement to the royal lake.
The Lukiiko sat at a long table by the lakeshore. By now, Rózsa had played for them many times, but they looked different – forbidding – now that they were sitting in judgment on her. She knew that their decision would likely be final: in theory, the Kabaka could overrule the Lukiiko even when it sat as a court, but Senyange had told her that this happened rarely.
But there was suddenly no time for fear, because the chancellor, Luwemba, rapped on the table. “Rabbi Kasztner,” he spoke into the silence, “will you take oath according to your faith?”
“I speak first?” the rabbi answered.
“This is your lawsuit,” said Luwemba mildly. “You will speak first.”
Rabbi Kasztner nodded and submitted to the oath. “Rózsa’s marriage to Senyange is prohibited by our people’s law, and I ask the court to forbid it.”
Kasozi, a rural chief from the north, nodded. “That makes sense,” he said. “Different nations do have different laws.”
“What law of yours forbids the marriage?” Luwemba asked.
“A Jew can only marry another Jew. And by our law, Senyange is not a Jew. His parents weren’t born Jews and didn’t undergo a conversion, and so they aren’t Jewish and neither is he.”
“But they are Jewish according to their own law.”
“The Baganda Jews have their law, but we have ours.”
“They do say,” said Mugerwa, the governor of schools, “that religious men can disagree. I have seen it in the Jewish writings – some of the ancestors saw the law one way and some another. If the Magyar Jews have a different law from our Jews, then maybe we should respect it.”
Kasozi raised a hand. “If they had, would they be Jewish under your law?”
“They would, if the conversion were done properly.”
“And would Senyange, if he did? And would you perform the conversion? And then, could they marry?”
The rabbi stood in silence for a moment, and Rózsa could almost see the thoughts that were fighting each other in his mind. “Yes,” he said finally, drawing out the word. “You must know that we don’t accept converts as easily as the Christians or Muslims do. A convert must be sincere and he must have a good reason for wanting to become Jewish, and marriage alone is not enough reason. But Senyange has followed what he saw as the Jewish faith all his life, so his sincerity is clear. I would accept him for conversion classes.”
Though it wasn’t her turn to speak, Rózsa began to form words: why should Senyange have to convert to a faith he had followed since birth, and why should her rabbi have to approve him? But Luwemba, sensing an easy way to give everyone what they wanted, silenced her and called on Senyange to take oath.
“Senyange ssebo, would you take these classes and become Jewish according to Magyar as well as Baganda law?”
“If that’s what I need to do to marry Rózsa, then…”
“Wait,” Mugerwa said. “Rabbi, you said that you will recognize no one as a Jew unless they convert according to your law. What about the Kabaka?”
“The king? Of course he isn’t Jewish.”
A stir went through the Lukiiko and the assembled people as well. “And could he take your classes?”
“Of course he could. But…” The rabbi’s voice faltered. “They say he belongs to all the faiths. To be Jewish according to our law, he would have to give up all other gods.”
Now the consternation was audible, and it built for a long moment as the members of the Lukiiko conferred among themselves.
“We respect the laws of each nation,” Luwemba said. “But above all those laws is the Kabaka’s law and the Kabaka’s peace, and there will be no peace if the king cannot act as a bridge between the faiths. We cannot give judgment that recognizes your conversion laws, because that would risk a return of the wars.”
It took a moment for Rózsa to realize what that meant. “Then we can’t marry?”
“I didn’t say that. Different nations have different laws, but if a person leaves one and joins another, he can take its law upon himself. Both you and Senyange are Jewish under the law of the Baganda Jews; will you become a Muganda rather than a Magyar and live under that law? Rabbi Kasztner can speak the law for the Magyar Jews, but if you are a Muganda, his law will not apply to you.”
Rózsa was silent. What was asked of her seemed, somehow, even more than what had been asked of Senyange. The words Rabbi Kasztner had spoken at Aunt Gitta’s came back to her: could someone become a part of another people the same way she might change citizenship or even faith? But at the Lukiiko table, Colonel Weisz was looking at her and nodding slowly; she realized how much of a Muganda he had become, and how much she already was.
“I will,” she said. The words hung in the air and she still couldn’t believe she had said them, but there was no taking them back.
“Then let judgment be given,” said the chancellor, and the court adjourned.
#
They were married by the water as Rózsa wanted, at the Nakawa beach where she had played her flute and come to the notice of a king. She and Senyange stood under the wooden canopy that Musoke had made, between the posts carved with images of Hungarian and Baganda ancestors. They were royal servants, so the Kabaka married them, and they said the words he told them to say and faced the cheering congregation after Senyange broke the glass.
When the ceremony was done, she walked down the beach, her hand in Senyange’s; there was a party waiting for them, but she needed this moment to be alone. It felt that she was walking away from a people as well as a marriage, and she was uncertain of what the future might bring.
“You don’t need to be,” Senyange said. “You are a Muganda now, but you have Magyar ancestors, so you will always be close to them. You have gained a nation and a family, not lost one.”
Rózsa nodded wordlessly: the words would be a comfort if she could bring herself to believe them. She looked out at Nalubale’s calm waters, and she knew somehow that she would believe them someday even if she didn’t now. She took Senyange’s hand again and let him lead her toward the celebration.
“Did you bring your flute?” he said. “We have a wedding song to write.”
Ephraim Ben Raphael
Banned
I have to say; that man wasn't Jewish. Not if he's still worshiping ancestor spirits. And what kind of husband demands that his wife convert to his religion when he won't convert to hers? I'm sorry, but I can't see this story as romantic.
EDIT: I'm trying to figure out why this bothers me. My cousin married a Shia Muslim- I think she's wonderful and their marriage didn't bother me at all (neither is religious they're just two people who love each-other). My sister is dating a Christian Scientist and they're beautiful together- my sister promised if they ever get married I can be Man of Honor. But for some reason this particular narrative is really bothering me, and I have no idea why. Sorry if my earlier comment came across as passive-aggressive, I'm wrestling with my emotional response to this.
EDIT: I'm trying to figure out why this bothers me. My cousin married a Shia Muslim- I think she's wonderful and their marriage didn't bother me at all (neither is religious they're just two people who love each-other). My sister is dating a Christian Scientist and they're beautiful together- my sister promised if they ever get married I can be Man of Honor. But for some reason this particular narrative is really bothering me, and I have no idea why. Sorry if my earlier comment came across as passive-aggressive, I'm wrestling with my emotional response to this.
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Though he was willing to convert to hers until the chancellor decided that wasn't such a good idea - it was the court that made that decision, not him.
Also, from his point of view and that of the other Baganda Jews, what she's doing isn't a conversion at all, just a change of minhag. They subscribe to Ben-Gurion's view of Judaism, i.e., that a Jew is anyone crazy enough to claim to be one. Obviously, that's not the halachic definition and not one that the Hungarians share, but the way he sees it, she has joined his people but hasn't changed her religion.
Nor has she forsaken her ancestors or family - I hope that was apparent from the third-to-last paragraph, and it's my fault if not. She and others like her will eventually be the bridge between the two communities.
You're absolutely entitled to your emotional response, and one thing I'm sure you've noticed by now is that it's impossible to offend me with sincere criticism. Most happy endings aren't happy to everyone.
Assimilation, both cultural and religious, is something we've all wrestled with at one time or another. I suspect my view of it is different from yours - I'm not against syncretism and experimentation, and I generally consider cultural assimilation a good thing as long as it isn't all or nothing and as long as it occurs in a society that's free enough for it to be mutual - and that view informs the story as your view does your reaction to it. So don't worry about either the original version of your comment or the edit.
That was a good story. Once again I am struck by the humanity of your storytelling; Rabbi Kasztner may be the antagonist of this tale, but his motivations are understandable for the time and place. And while Rosza and others like her will, as you say, eventually become the bridge between the two communities, the way you use her tale to illustrate how the tale of the Baganda Jews and their relationship with the wider faith isn't always plain sailing is expertly done.
Also, on a slightly selfish note:
I remember writing a similar passage in a story not too long ago, and chastising myself that "proper writers don't write things like that". So it's a great comfort to me to note that they do, actually, write things like that, and it reads just fine. It's always nice to catch out one's own impostor syndrome.
Thanks again, JE.
Also, on a slightly selfish note:
I remember writing a similar passage in a story not too long ago, and chastising myself that "proper writers don't write things like that". So it's a great comfort to me to note that they do, actually, write things like that, and it reads just fine. It's always nice to catch out one's own impostor syndrome.
Thanks again, JE.
yboxman
Banned
I think that it is obvious why it is bothering you.
OTL, Intermarriage with a CS or a Shia means potential loss of the progeny of those marriages to the tribe (or potential gain, depending on the individuals involved, but the statistics are as they are). But it doesn't impact how the tribe defines ITSELF since either religion is not really competing for the loyalties of the faithful (or not so faithful) tribe members.
But ITTL:
a. The intermarriage is occuring with someone who is positing a different interpetation of what Judaism IS, and one which runs counter to a pretty fundamental prohibition.
(Of course, ancestor worship could be argued to be not all that different than Tzadik/saint veneration https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simeon_bar_Yochai#Yahrzeit_customs_at_the_tomb
I suspect/hope that the cleavage between the Baganda and the Hungarians will be resolved by "reinterpeting" what the ancestor worship means. Coincidentially I have recently read a CS pamplet which arrived at that solution with Papuan converts).
b. The Baganda are native and connected to the court and the local power structures. The "proper" Jews are not. The Baganda offer an alternate interpatation to Judaism. That means that they are a potential threat (Like christianity eventually became in the Roman Empire) that might incite against the Orthodox Jews out of a sense of being spurned by them. More insidiously, Jews who want to fit in, by among other things intermarrying, will be attracted to the Baganda.
c. The prescedent set down by this ruling could be interpeted as forbidding ANY conversion to Orthodox Judaism, since it does not recognize the Kabaka as a Jew. This means that the future of the orthodox Jewish community in Uganda is one of dwindling and assimilation, since intermarriage cannot be completely prevented and any such case of intermarriage, to Muslims, Christians or Animists as well as Baganda means loss of tribemembers. The American solution (to the extent it is a solution) of marriage without conversion of either party is not possible in TTL's Uganda as I understand it, since the model is a combination of "Union of ALL the churches with the state", rather than "Separation of church from state", combined with multicultualism to the extreme with each community policing itself (a bit like the old Ottoman model).
d. More broadly the clash over the statues of the Kabaka according to orthodox Jewish law means that the Jewish immigrants have just been set apart (or have set themselves apart, depending on your definition) of the social contract/ law of the land simply for holding on to their traditional and, by their lights, very reasonable by their lights definition of what a Jew is. Potentially, this can be interpeted as a form of coercion/pressure to change the innermost definition of what being a Jews is as the price of being accepted as part of the social/political order.
Again, historical analogies come to mind. In some very fundamental respect Rabbi Kasztner is the temple priesthood refusing to permit the entry of the Roman Eagles, or the statue of Antiochus into the temple.
And we know how THAT ended.
The Jewish refusal to accept the Imperial spiritual, as well as political subordinance of the ancient world was a prime cause in the formation of pre-christian antisemitism. Rights and wrongs aside, the dynamic being set up here, with the best of intentions, might end the same way, with the Jewish immigrants/refugees ITTL suffering the same fate of the Ugandan Indian immigrants OTL, even if this is generations down the line.
I can think of a few ways in which this dynamic can be resolved... but I think I'll throw down the gauntlet to comrade Edelstein to sort this out.
P.S. Oh, and in case it wasn't obvious- GREAT scene. sociopolitics aside this is a beautiful story.
yboxman
Banned
I will add that I don't wan't to over martyr Kasztner (Is this an ancestor of THE Kasztner BTW?). He made every possible wrong move. What he SHOULD have done, within the framework of his own prohibitions, was to first of all realize his position, and that of his community. they are a small, highly visible community which also, Rosza's position as itenerant musician notwithstanding, possesses far more in the way of education, business experience and connections to the wider world than the mass of predominantly rural population, even more than Jews in Europe and the Middle East usually had (An analogy to OTL's Indians in Ugandad comes to mind. Or Indian Jews in Burma for that matter). That means, in the long run, greater economic prosperity, which will make them even more visible, and potentially resented.
Their "Court Jew"/Protector has already married a Baganda, so making an issue over this is not exactly going to make him more sympathetic.
I would like to say that he is acting like a caricature of sterotyped narrowminded ultra-orthodox rabbis... but unfortunately, as recent and not so recent events have shown this is exactly as too many (not all) of them have acted over the years. Still, I would have thought that an Hungarian Rabbi would be more likely to be a Neologist https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/neology-2 and therefore more flexible, even at this time.
Within the boundaries of Orthodox prohibitions (if not prejudices), on the micro-level Kasztner should have taken a "yes, but" attitude towards the marriage and worked on persuading Senyange to convert without involving the authorities.
On the macro-level, he should be making allies, and converts, out the the Badanga. His community may be small, but it does have access to the wider global Jewish community, including TTL's version of "Alliance". Getting money for schools, etc, should not be impossible, and that should be used to resolve/persuade specific practices which are outside the accepted norm of Mainstream Judaism, such as redefining ancestor worship into ancestor veneration.
The more difficult point is that there isn't any way to finesse, within the boundaries of Jewish law, the Kabaka's claims. Theologically Judaism is not compatible with Christianity and unreformed Animism, and while there is no outright theological conflict between Judaism and Islam, Halakha and the various schools of Sharia are too incompatible on a number of points for someone to wear both hats. Recognizing him as a secular ruler, and a protector of the community, is one thing. recognizing him as a religious-judicial authority, or even as a "good Jew" is another.
Sidestepping the issue by honoring him as "protector of the faith" and avoiding a conflict which would bring the issue up seems like the only safe bet.
Their "Court Jew"/Protector has already married a Baganda, so making an issue over this is not exactly going to make him more sympathetic.
I would like to say that he is acting like a caricature of sterotyped narrowminded ultra-orthodox rabbis... but unfortunately, as recent and not so recent events have shown this is exactly as too many (not all) of them have acted over the years. Still, I would have thought that an Hungarian Rabbi would be more likely to be a Neologist https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/neology-2 and therefore more flexible, even at this time.
Within the boundaries of Orthodox prohibitions (if not prejudices), on the micro-level Kasztner should have taken a "yes, but" attitude towards the marriage and worked on persuading Senyange to convert without involving the authorities.
On the macro-level, he should be making allies, and converts, out the the Badanga. His community may be small, but it does have access to the wider global Jewish community, including TTL's version of "Alliance". Getting money for schools, etc, should not be impossible, and that should be used to resolve/persuade specific practices which are outside the accepted norm of Mainstream Judaism, such as redefining ancestor worship into ancestor veneration.
The more difficult point is that there isn't any way to finesse, within the boundaries of Jewish law, the Kabaka's claims. Theologically Judaism is not compatible with Christianity and unreformed Animism, and while there is no outright theological conflict between Judaism and Islam, Halakha and the various schools of Sharia are too incompatible on a number of points for someone to wear both hats. Recognizing him as a secular ruler, and a protector of the community, is one thing. recognizing him as a religious-judicial authority, or even as a "good Jew" is another.
Sidestepping the issue by honoring him as "protector of the faith" and avoiding a conflict which would bring the issue up seems like the only safe bet.
All of this is true - Rabbi Kasztner is the antagonist and made several wrong moves - but as both of you recognize, he's also by no means a villain. At the time of the story, Hungary has just finished a brutal civil war directly on top of the Great War, and Hungarian Jews weren't treated kindly in either of them. He has led a group of refugees to a place of safety - see the last part of post 3137 - and he wants to keep them together while they establish themselves and rebuild their strength. He's also aware that they are a small minority and that pressure to assimilate will be hard to resist, and he has internalized the nineteenth-century European attitude that Jewish assimilation is a one-way street (as it generally was in Europe at the time). He hasn't quite adjusted to the different realities of Buganda and is trying to do the best he can for his people according to his lights.
Meanwhile, at this point ITTL, the Baganda are modernizing rapidly and are culturally acquisitive in many of the same ways as the Japanese - i.e., ready to adopt anything they see as good and make it theirs without necessarily considering how the source culture feels about it. They're also protective of the pantheistic palace cult, which isn't obligatory outside the palace but which they consider necessary to maintaining religious peace. In these circumstances, clashes are bound to happen.
They do find a modus vivendi eventually - this is the Malêverse, after all - but it will take a while.
That's basically what "ancestor worship" is, notwithstanding our shorthand for it. The way the Baganda view their ancestors isn't that alien to how Hasidim view their rebbeim. The ancestors are the easy part.
The hard part will be the lubaale - personalized guardian deities who aren't ancestors. OTOH, they aren't gods as such. The Baganda traditional religion, like those of most Bantu-speaking peoples, posits the lubaale as subordinate to a supreme Creator God. Traditionally, the creator wasn't an object of worship - he was seen as somewhat nebulous and distant, and the religion focused on the guardians who were closer to the people and who governed things the people cared about. The increasing adoption of Western religion means that worship is shifting to the creator, and in turn, this could make it possible to reimagine the lubaale as angels or messengers, both of which are attested in Judaism (leaving aside the issue of what "the angel of the Lord" actually means).
Those who want to harmonize the branches of Judaism will be able to do so. Of course, not everyone will want to do so.
That is one way to interpret the ruling (and it's a way that, initially, many of the Hungarian Jews will fear that it will be interpreted) but it won't work out that way - freedom to change religions is one of the underpinnings of religious peace in Buganda, and implicit in the ability of a Hungarian to become a Muganda is that a Muganda can also become Hungarian.
I may someday write about the case that is a mirror image to Rózsa and Senyange's, but maybe I won't, so here's how it goes: In 1906, a Hungarian Jewish merchant courts a Muganda woman, she agrees to attend conversion classes, and some of her clan elders sue to declare that part of the marriage contract invalid. The Lukiiko upholds the contract, because (a) it is a private arrangement that doesn't implicate the status of the Kabaka, and (b) invalidating the contract would transgress the freedom to change religions and would give state sanction to the supremacy of one religious law over another. Preventing conversions would lead to the same problems as requiring them, and the Baganda are subtle enough to see that - their legal system IOTL was pretty sophisticated, and ITTL it's even more so.
You know, I initially wanted to work the "court Jew" angle into the story - I thought about having some of the Hungarians support the marriage on the ground that having an another Jew at court would be a good thing and that it wouldn't be wise to anger Weisz at a time when the community wasn't fully established. That ended up not fitting into the dialogue as written, but you can be sure these things were being said offstage.
Anyway, the kind of resentment you mention is a real fear and a real possibility. The Hungarian Jews will prosper - that's shown in this scene from 1963 - and many of them will also remain somewhat separate, so there is bound to be friction.
Set against that are four things. First, the Buganda kingdom's experience ITTL has made it very averse to religious strife - ITTL there were not only massacres between religions as IOTL but a multi-sided and destructive civil war during the 1880s, so religious conflict is regarded as the main threat to the kingdom's integrity - and its constitution, including the formation of the palace cult, gives a very high priority to maintaining peace between faiths. Second, most of the Baganda want the Jews to stay, precisely because of the skills and economic benefits they bring. Third, the Baganda are urbanizing quickly and (as shown in the story) are developing their own schools and social capital, so they'll share in these benefits - it won't be a case of upper-middle-class foreign rentiers lording it over an impoverished local population. And fourth, the Baganda who marry into the Hungarian Jewish community will be culturally primed to venerate their Hungarian ancestors too, which will limit any sense of alienation.
The upshot is that there won't be any official intolerance, but there will be no end of family and clan drama even in TTL's present. The two Jewish communities in Buganda will have their share of Montagues and Capulets.
Not all the Hungarian rabbis were Neologs, and Rabbi Kasztner wasn't. OTOH, the refugees are a motley group, and many of his congregation are Neologist, so drama will ensue (and indeed has).
Yup. If he had participated in the marriage negotiations and said "you're a nice kid, but there's something you need to do before I can marry you to Rózsa," then Senyange's response would have been "fine" as it was when the case came before the Lukiiko. But neither he nor Senyange were literate enough in each other's cultures to make the suggestion, and their initial hostility got the better of them.
As the two cultures get more used to each other, he might learn, especially once the Lukiiko rules that conversion can go both ways.
This will eventually be possible, not least because (as noted above) it's in everyone's interest to maintain religious peace. The palace cult holds the Kabaka to be a member of all religions, but he isn't a judicial authority for any of them; instead, they govern themselves somewhat like Ottoman millets. The Hungarians won't have to obey his religious rulings, and "protector of the faith" will be enough to satisfy the majority - the Baganda aren't a great imperial power like the Romans were, so they don't have the Romans' overweening arrogance.
Still, there will be dissenters, and as you say, it wouldn't be wise to do anything that would force the Kabaka to defend his status in public.
Or else that I'm not a proper writer.
Speaking of which, for those who missed it when I posted it in the Writers' Forum, my story Of Letters They Are Made ran last week. I'm proud of that story - it may well be my favorite among the stories I've managed to publish thus far - and I can guarantee that there's no syncretism in it.
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yboxman
Banned
"and then they’d taken a riff [2] to Entebbe where many of the WaMagyar had moved in the past two decades. There, they’d seen cafés and European-style stone buildings and, in one case, a synagogue brought from Budapest and rebuilt brick by brick."
Every time I revisit the Maleverse I end up discovering another gem I missed the first time around.
Interesting, how the laws of the Kabaka and the laws of the Hungarian/Bangandan jews collide. We know that the two communities will come to terms with it, but I think cases like Rózsa and Senyange's would probably become hot-button issues for the first few decades.
"and then they’d taken a riff [2] to Entebbe where many of the WaMagyar had moved in the past two decades. There, they’d seen cafés and European-style stone buildings and, in one case, a synagogue brought from Budapest and rebuilt brick by brick."
Jews. Uganda. Did you really think I'd resist having some of them live in Entebbe?
Oh, more than decades - some of the family feuds created during the early years will take on a life of their own as such things do, and the culture shock will never completely go away. The two communities will get used to each other, but that doesn't mean that every individual within them will do so. The issue won't be "hot button" any more by TTL's present, but it will still be an occasional theme of Luganda soap operas.
Also, while there will be an increasing amount of intermarriage and conversion both ways (some not even involving marriage - the cultural acquisitiveness of TTL's Baganda and the Baganda Jews' desire to backfill their knowledge of Jewish law and custom mean that some will simply want to share in the Hungarians' learning), the communities will never actually merge. Many on both sides won't want to give up cherished practices for the sake of unity, and there won't be any overriding need to do so; Kampala in 2017 will still have Baganda synagogues and Hungarian synagogues, though some of the people who attend each won't necessarily be who you'd expect.
[ETA: I've noted this before, but the drama is occurring among a relatively small portion of Buganda's population. The Hungarian Jews will ultimately make up about 1 percent of the population and the Baganda-rite Jews another 2 percent, with the other minor religious communities that arose from the palace cult (Hindu, Buddhist, Jain and Sikh) smaller still. The overwhelming majority of Baganda will either belong to one of the missionary religions (Islam, Catholicism, and various Protestant denominations) or follow traditional animism. OTOH, the minority religions are concentrated in and around the capital, and Jews might make up as much as 10 percent of Kampala itself.]
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After an hour of code-pushing, the Malê Rising records page is officially updated! If anyone wants to read any recent posts from this timeline (or any post if you want), you can now search for it there.
EDIT: Also, Jonathan's historical fantasy, Of Letters They Are Made, is now on Beneath Ceaseless Skies. Thought you all ought to know.
EDIT: Also, Jonathan's historical fantasy, Of Letters They Are Made, is now on Beneath Ceaseless Skies. Thought you all ought to know.
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what happen to main land Portugal, I don't see an thing on it on this timeline. how different is it in this time line. and how different is the Dominican republic in this time line. how different are comic books are in this timeline and dose anime exist in this timeline. how are native Americans in this timeline in north america. what happen to central america and Uruguay and Paraguay and the guyana's and costa rica.
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https://www.alternatehistory.com/wiki/doku.php?id=timelines:list_of_male_rising_posts
Maybe of help. Read and find your answers.
There's a lot of stuff in this timeline on Portugal and Central America, and Uruguay and Paraguay both get covered as well. There's also a series of guest posts on Native Americans.
Given that the last story Jonathan posted in the thread before this current one about Buganda was about Portuguese culture and politics, it's worth reading more closely.
Seriously, just read the whole timeline. It's the best thing on the board.
Wow, wow! slow down there! Most of your questions can be answered through searching the records page, pressing 'ctrl and F', and typing in specific words and phrases. But in a nutshell:
There's a number of posts centered around Portugal and her colonial empire. As to how different, it's... way too complicated to say without spoiling stuff.
Better than OTL, and with a better relationship with Haiti and the Caribbean.
Comic books = maybe. Anime = not like OTL.
Costa Rica = similar to OTL.
Guyanas = similar ~ richer than OTL.
Paraguay = more industrialized than OTL.
Uruguay = similar ~ better than OTL
Central America = Too complicated. 'ctrl F' with the words "El Salvador", "Mexico" and "Central America".
There's a number of posts centered around Portugal and her colonial empire. As to how different, it's... way too complicated to say without spoiling stuff.
Better than OTL, and with a better relationship with Haiti and the Caribbean.
Comic books = maybe. Anime = not like OTL.
It's complicated. Much of Native American affairs are embedded within other updates, but your best bet is 'ctrl F' the records page with the words "guest post" .
Costa Rica = similar to OTL.
Guyanas = similar ~ richer than OTL.
Paraguay = more industrialized than OTL.
Uruguay = similar ~ better than OTL
Central America = Too complicated. 'ctrl F' with the words "El Salvador", "Mexico" and "Central America".