FREE FROM CHAINS. A GLIMPSE INTO THE AGUNA & GET CRISIS

My grandmother always told me that it’s a man’s world. She had an old Arabic saying to go with it, but I think it’s better if I don’t share that here. You can use your imagination. Going back thousands of years we can recall that men were permitted to marry over and over again, while the women were not. Still, the Torah was infamously progressive at the same time, allowing for mistakes, regrets and the breaking of the marriage contract when necessary. In the book of Devarim, chapter 24, the rules for divorce are laid out clearly. It is available to ailing couples, but because the responsibilities lie in the man’s hands, so do the logistics and power. While the laws still stand, and my grandmother may have been right in her time, today women are enlightened and empowered. We live in an era of total transparency, forcing men to be held accountable. Before we think it, it is out there on the Internet for all to see. Our girls and women are no longer alone.

I had never heard the word “Aguna” before, but as I type, the “aguna crisis,” as it is being referred to, is literally blowing up all over Brooklyn, Deal, Lakewood, Monsey, Boston, Denver and even as far away as Los Angeles and London. In order to explain though, I’ll have to start from the beginning.

A halachic Jewish divorce is called a “get.” A get must be given of the husband’s free will; however, consent of the wife is not biblically mandated. The laws, stemming from the fact that men were permitted many wives, only provide for a divorce initiated by the husband. He either must release her, or be dead, in order for her to be free. While today our religion does not allow polygamy, the ancient laws regarding divorce still stand. While the wife has the right to sue for divorce in a rabbinical court, sometimes a man will completely refuse to grant it, which leaves his wife with no possibility of remarriage within Orthodox Judaism. She remains sanctified to this man and “chained” to the marriage, like an anchor to its ship. This woman is referred to as an aguna.

Free Chava

Just a few weeks ago, I came across a few Instagram posts saying, “Free Chava.” Inquiring further, I found out that Chava was a fourth-grade teacher at Flatbush. She had been trying to get her husband to give her a get for 8 years. He disappeared completely a few months ago from her and her children’s lives, literally holding her hostage, by not giving her a Jewish divorce. Scratching my head, I could not fathom what she was going through, or why he would do this to her. Can’t she go to the rabbis, I kept thinking. Where are her family, her friends—why aren’t they helping her? Little did I know, she had tried it all, and done it all, again, again, and again.

Rumor has it that in Israel, the rabbinate may confiscate passports, put get-refusers in prison, and even go so far as showing a get-refuser an unmarked grave, implying it could be his, if he refuses to comply. In London, it is illegal for a man to refuse his wife a get. Here in America, with clear separation of church and state, the aguna problem is far more difficult to solve. Divorcing parties are not automatically subjected to a beit din’s jurisdiction, and furthermore, Orthodox rabbis have pointed to many years of rabbinical sources stating that any coercion can invalidate a get, except in the most extreme of cases. Here in the United States a get-refuser may be ostracized by his community in an effort to force a get, but even these actions are difficult to enforce. Take the example of Chava’s husband, who moved to Los Angeles, where he was unknown. There he found work as a kashrut mashgiach, (of all things!) and is often invited into people’s homes for Shabbat dinners.

Enter, Mexican Pacino

Abe Manopla is 36 years old. He moved here from Mexico City when he was 16. A true character, his friends call him Plat, short for platanos. During Covid, inspired by “Live with Lee,” and the myriad of Instagram broadcasts entertaining and uniting us during this dreadful time, Manopla started his own Instashow with various interviews and food reviews, which he called Mexican Pacino. Monday night, March 8, 2021 as I sat at dinner with my kids, I noticed his “live” popping up on my feed. Curious, I joined, just as he began interviewing a get-refuser.

“I saw a post on community news,” he explained. “It said, Free Elizabeth! And I realized, that’s my friend’s wife. I decided to get him on air, to give him a chance to explain himself. I felt for him; I had my own marital problems over the years. My wife and I had actually separated, gotten divorced, and came back together a year later, to get remarried. Just to be clear, I gave her the get on the day she asked. Since then I learned a lot about listening, giving and understanding. I didn’t have any inkling as to the can of worms I was opening.”

Since that moment, Mexican Pacino has become a true cultural phenomenon. Both a chazzan and a devoted student
of Hacham Aaron Haleva and Rabbi Nahum (He gets up at 5 am every morning to go to class), Manopla has become a catalyst in a movement that has taken on a life of its own. Dalia Oziel brought Chava to the limelight, and Rabbi Eli Mansour had endorsed the first GoFundMe, which broke the stigma of silence, but Instagram put it in the hands of the people. “Together we will help the oppressed,” said Rabbi Mansour on Abe’s broadcast. Giving voice to the voiceless, Manopla is using his strength to do Hashem’s work.

Abe’s viewership has tripled, and then tripled again. He explained, “The people had heard enough; they weren’t going to stand for it. The following night Evet, another aguna came on to tell her story. She was not halachically divorced, but her husband had remarried and had three kids with his new wife! Two thousand people watched and before the end of the night, 17,000 more viewed! Between the guests and the comments, so many people were heated up and angry. They wanted to do something—and they did. When I said, “let’s rally behind them,” I meant, in spirit, but in the comments the viewers joined forces—and showed up, in front of her estranged husband’s house. East Fifth Street became mobbed with protesters. And at the same time, in Long Branch, another get-refuser’s house was
surrounded as well.”

Double Down

The day Harry Adjmi was released from the hospital last April after his life-threatening bout with Covid19, he celebrated and danced in the streets as we all watched on Instagram live. All his life Harry ran after mitzvot, helping people, but now he was a visibly changed man. “Double down,” he told the community. “We can do more.” This video was played and replayed, inspiring countless watchers to volunteer, donate, pray and help make this community better. Hearing the sad plight of these women, Harry could not stand by. The Mexican Pacino had lit the torch, and now Harry took over. He began inviting get-refusers to his home, together with Rabbi David Ozeri. Now the real work of getting these gets would begin. Harry explained, “We are working together, and it’s a Herculean effort, simply for one goal; for shalom in our community. Fighting a war is not the answer. Each of us has to have the desire for peace.”

The following day brought more live broadcasts, from activists, bloggers and laymen. Damaging voice notes and photos circulated. The consensus was clear. We must separate the topics. A get cannot and should not be used
as leverage in a divorce. It isn’t a term of negotiations or a bargaining chip to win custody or alimony. These factors are for the civil courts to decide. If a marriage is over, the get should be given. Plain and simple. The more noise was made, the more agunot came forward. I am sure these women were ashamed at first; the secrecy is part of the problem. They didn’t want to talk badly about their spouses. They didn’t want their pictures and stories out there, subject to scrutiny; but now they saw that it was making all the difference.

Murray Betesh, a friend of Manopla and a man of faith, action, and respect gave a welcoming space to some of these victims to tell their stories. He had never done anything like this before, but now he found himself in the center of a revolution. He explained, “I was getting so many calls asking for help—and I was trying my best to do everything possible to bring people to the table. Nobody realizes how the pain and trauma a person goes through affects the families and their children. I wanted to help bring peace.” In one day, Murray raised tens of thousands of dollars for the agunot. Everybody watching felt hopeful. A year ago, the world was shutting down and a black cloud was settling in. That day, with Pesach fast approaching, it seemed that sunshine and freedom were palpable.

The Get-Busters

John Stockton and Karl Malone, NBA players, have been described as the greatest pick-and-roll combination of all time. Once the Mexican Pacino had lit the aguna fire, Harry, the go-to “closer” and friend to all community members, took over the play running. Social commenters like @TheGhettoGourmet, @LyndaLevy, @The_Divorce_Specialist and so many others joined the social media frenzy, and this phrase, “Stockton−Malone−YES!” became a symbol of the fight on every live broadcast. These were the Get-Busters, and we had all become a part of their team, fighting for the right; an entire community of players creating change. While “taking it to the streets” is not usually our way, many rabbis spoke out in support of the rallies, because they saw a partnership happening. Sometimes the people can accomplish things that the rabbis want to, but struggle to act on, and achieve peacefully; Rabbi Raymond Harari explained, “I would rather have a community of people who are really upset about injustice and act on it, than a community who say, please rabbis take care of this. We are teaching the people to feel, and that’s not a bad thing.”

Sari Dana, a life coach teaching a Zen approach to young girls and women’s empowerment described the night of the first rally, “I had no idea what was going on, but it was around the corner from me, and I could literally hear the chanting from my bedroom; ‘No Get—No Peace!’ I walked over and it was surreal. I felt it was important to show up, and I’m happy that we are finally using loud voices for what used to be a silent issue.” Murray played a big part in making these rallies happen. He gave agunot like Esther the courage to get on air and be heard, validated and recognized for the first time in so long.

Lynda Levy, a vibrant community member, became involved in the social media storm. She explained, “At that first rally there was just so much craziness. People were outraged. I started to broadcast live on Instagram directly from there and the viewers were just in awe. They were angry! Instagram became like a lifeline and they were glued to their phones, for days. These were real atrocities and it gave people a direct opportunity to connect and make change. I think it gave us all a sense of unity. It was sad, but really gratifying at the same time.“

Maybe the community outrage shamed the get-refusers, or maybe it put pressure on their families to make a move. Either way, standing united, they helped accomplish in a few days what the rabbis had been trying to do for many, many years. On Thursday, March 11th, after 5 years of waiting and fighting, Elizabeth got her halachic get in Harry and Alice Adjmi’s home, surrounded by a roomful of our most dedicated rabbis and community leaders. Rabbi Mansour texted Pacino the code word, “g’mor,” meaning “done,” and again, we watched the celebration on Instagram in real time as the power of the people prevailed. Still, we have questions. Why did it take so long? Where were the rabbis? Why is it that we didn’t hear about these cases on an individual or collective basis until two weeks ago? And finally, why, oh why were there only men around the table that night?

Rabbi Shlomo Farhi answered the last question on one of Murray’s live broadcasts, agreeing that there should be women at the table, “but that’s just the first table,” he said. The rabbis had to finish what they started, and for the record, Alice was there. As for the decades-long delays, Harry explained that the answer is just not good enough, “Don’t you think if there was something they could’ve done for these women 5, 10 or 15 years ago, they would have? The rabbis have always cared about women that are stuck. They have spent thousands of hours on some cases, but the truth is, they just don’t have the power to do what is needed to be done. They were following Jewish law, but those laws don’t give them the authority or ability to force the hands of these men.”
So now, Elizabeth was free, but there were so many more still chained. Evet, Chava, Michelle, Nechama, and Rikki, and so many others—now with faces and stories behind them.

Meanwhile, the group of get-refusers coach each other on how to extort money, how to deal with the rabbis and how to evade enforcement of the laws. The common denominator—unfortunately too many of the wives are battered, and too many of these men have a flaw, a disturbance, or significant mental health issues. @Project soulmate says, “Narcissists thrive on power and putting others down—in their minds they’re right, even when they’re wrong.”

Harry added, “Nobody wants to air their dirty laundry. None of us like the bullhorns or the rallies but if it pushes that man or his family a little closer to the table, I’m okay with it. You would think they would want to move on with their lives, get remarried, and find happiness, but they are just not thinking clearly.” Many of them live in their parents’ basements, surrounded by enablers. Others just run away. Some of them are too smart for their own good. Some think they’re going to get a better deal. Others think they’re going to get their wife back. Still others are simply looking for attention; they may not have money but withholding this get gives them power. They are not only holding on to the get, they are holding on to the anger, resentment and pain that fuel their actions. Perhaps, once their energies are redirected, they can heal, and be free of that burden, too. Rabbi Eli Mansour reminds us that withholding is just another form of abuse, and is a sign that there was surely abuse present in the marriage. That is the most frightening of all.
Over three days’ time, Elizabeth, Evet, and Michelle have each received their get. Evet was waiting 17 years. Collectively, they have waited almost 30 years for their freedom. Alyssa Shams, from the organization PROPEL, said, “People are calling this a revolution, but to me it is an evolution. To see women railing against injustice gives me hope. This is only the beginning.” Hopefully, by the time this article is printed, there will be more women freed. There are still too many agunot waiting, but change is here, and the “sweep it under the rug” mentality is long gone. It seems that the social media coverage is equal to the “lashings” that get-refusers received in days of old.

Rabbi Ozeri explained, “We are living in historical times. No community has ever seen anything like this, where a number of gitin have been given to agunot in such a short time. Every man who is holding back a get from his wife should take heed and realize that this is the time to come forward and do the right thing. The community has no more patience for men who refuse to give their wife a get. Our way is a way of pleasantness and peace. No one is looking to fight, and no one is looking for protests. It is time to do the right thing.” To the refusers, he says, “come forward, speak up and we will help you through this agonizing time in your life.”

A Rock and a Hard place

Nothing is better than a beautiful marriage, and the Torah teaches us how to find that, but sometimes the world is cruel. I have heard the mikveh ladies whispering about the bruises they’ve seen, but often there is nothing they can do about it. The women stay silent; what will the neighbors think? What will my mother think? And the worst one, maybe I deserved it. The rabbis often encourage women to go back and try to make the marriage work, again and again. They do, because they are G-d fearing, religious women. Their stomachs are in knots—is tonight the night he will beat me? Will he berate me in front of my children? They practice the answers, telling themselves that they will fight back this time. They blame themselves. They worry about the effects a divorce will have on their kids. They feel lost and alone, even when family and friends are doing their best. “If I were the daughter of a rabbi or the daughter of a prominent community member, I would not still be waiting for my get,” one aguna said to me. This is sad, but I don’t believe it is true. No matter who you are, it is very hard to force a man’s hand. Jewish law states that he must give the get willingly. This takes much finesse.

Our sources tell us that the mizbaeach cries when a get is given, but sometimes these are tears of happiness. It is said that Hashem has spent every day of the last 5781 years choosing partners and pairing each of us off. He does not want even one of his children to ever be in pain, or feel alone.

Alice Adjmi has been in the room as Harry and Rabbi David Ozeri try to reason with these men. She reveals, “You have no idea how challenging it is. People ask me, why the pat on the back for this heartless man who kept a woman chained for more than a decade? Why the applause when he finally does the right thing? The answer is, he is a ba’al teshuva (someone who has done wrong, regretted his behavior, and then did the right thing). It’s a delicate balance. We are looking to the future, not at this one husband, or this one marriage. These men, and anyone you are trying to lead on a better path, need positive reinforcement. Nobody’s all good, or all bad. We must give them positivity. We want them to be happy and to go on with their lives.”

Harry continued, “As these cases have overwhelmed me in the last two weeks, I’ve seen that almost none of the moms said that these men are bad fathers. Unless he deserves to be incarcerated, he should be allowed to be with his children. On both sides, the get cannot be a bargaining tool. It’s just not right. After her son finally signed the get, one mom said to me, ‘It’s the first good night’s sleep I’ve had in five years.’ These men and their families are dueling within themselves. We are trying to give them a path to clarity.”

Harry is angry. He is angry that both our community and the Ashkenaz communities allowed this to go on for so long. “There’s frustration, but we all have to calm down. It’s a process; and it takes time. Push the men our way and we can then hope that the balance of what has to happen, can happen, and will happen.” Harry is also well aware that the success we are seeing right now is not accidental. “We are each doing our part, but there is a divine presence at work here; we all must understand this. After all these years, why now? Hashem is giving us the strength to get through these cases, one by one. As for the men who are coming forward, success is contagious, and everybody wants to get in bed with the winners. They are seeing that it’s not that painful; you can do this, you can be a hero. We have to do every single thing we can to set these women free and get their lives back. Everyone deserves to be happy.”

Solutions

Evet is a newcomer; her family arrived in America in 1992. She stated, “When I told my parents I wanted a divorce, they said, ‘what’s a divorce?’” Seventeen years waiting for her get, today she is a thriving business owner of a lighting store called Light Lab Designs, and encourages other women to stay strong. “I can’t be angry at the world. It isn’t productive and you can’t live your life that way. You’ll only end up raising angry children. My advice: don’t allow them into the mess. Try to be positive. I didn’t slip through the cracks—I called the rabbis every day for ten years. Every Shabbat I’d ask, ‘any good news, rabbi, so that I can light my candles?’ Rabbi Ozeri, Rabbi Saul Maslaton, and others, they really tried. Marvin Azrak, A”H was incredible. He was spearheading a movement to help agunot before he passed, and put so many hours into my case. I went to 127 beit dins, from most lenient to most conservative. I fought for my freedom for years. I have seven filing cabinets filled with beit din papers in my basement. I would have loved if there was an edict or a way of enforcing the law, but I cannot look back—only forward.”

Evet is a role model, and a symbol of hope and strength for us. If she can get through this, anyone can. Looking forward, we can only speculate. Our rabbis are clear, it is a commandment for these men to free their wives if the marriage is over. Back in the day, married men took this mitzvah so seriously, that if they went off to war they would sign the get and leave it with the rabbi, just in case they went missing. They are sinning every day that they deny their wives the get, but even as the rabbis work tirelessly to find answers, the solution is complicated. So how do we protect our children? How do we prevent this from happening even one more time?

Rabbi Raymond Harari and many others go by the RCA Beit din of America prenup, which provides a fee of $150 dollars a day, paid to the wife every day from the time she asks for the get. This amounts to over $50 thousand a year, and can be enforced in a court of law. Still, if the husband is bitter, hostile, or broke, as is often the case, he is not paying alimony, child support, or this fee. Can we put a time limit in the prenup on giving the get? Maybe this is the answer. And still there is a stigma surrounding the prenup in the first place; number one, isn’t it unpleasant to be discussing divorce, when two people are starting their lives together as man and wife? Also, is it creating an easy road to divorce—something none of us want? Rabbi Harari answered with an example, “When we build a shul, we put in a sprinkler system. We hope there will never be a fire, but we still secure the mechanism to protect us in an emergency.” Number two, it is embarrassing for parents to have to ask their new son-in-law to sign a prenup. Some leaders recommend mainstreaming the prenup; taking it out of the hands of the couple and incorporating it into the marriage formalities. By signing, they are saying to their prospective spouse, I love you so much, I never want to hurt you. Others think this is still not enough. While we cannot change a law from the Torah, we can “put a fence around it.” The same way our leaders wrote an edict 70 years ago, and reaffirmed it six times since, why can’t we create an edict to address this problem?

Rabbi Shlomo Farhi, on a live broadcast, discussed several other ways to address the problem. “We shouldn’t only focus on fixing the broken marriages, but helping people get into the right marriages. To do that, we need our children to understand what marriage and love are, and what they are not. What are they expecting? Often for each of us its different, and that is when we feel let down. It’s about bending yourself to be there for your spouse. It’s about acceptance, and forgiveness. We know there will not be a ‘one size fits all’ solution here. Each case may need a task force of a rabbi, an attorney and a psychologist in tandem to chart the smartest way forward. Ultimately, we need an ironclad system that blocks every exit. It needs to be legally enforceable, and it needs to be something that everyone can sign on for. A combination of education before marriage, the best kind of prenup approved by all of our Sephardic rabbis, a get-refuser registry, and the right type of person applying the right type of pressure when problems arise. We will try to free everyone, but it’s incredibly important to understand that what works in one case, may hurt in another. One person may be the type to cave to pressure while another might dig his heels in. There is nothing more dangerous than someone who has nothing to lose.”

Rabbi Joey Haber reminds us that we have to look further back, listen to the people who are suffering more diligently, and see situations for what they are before they come to a boil. “The fact that the community is coming together on this is a good thing, but to prevent this from happening to them, our children should try to choose people for the right reasons who can be their partners and best friends. Look at the midot of the person, do they anger easily? Are they demeaning in public or when they get upset? Once married, as couples, we need better ideals. The hardest work is the time spent understanding each other. We need to try to understand and validate each other on the deepest level. We are each kings and queens. This is a wake-up call for all of us. Every husband and wife must step up their game. We need to inspire the good to be better.”

Rabbi Eli Mansour reminds us that marriage is a two-way street, and that there are two and three sides to every story. “There are also women who refuse to receive gets. They stop the father from seeing the children, they hold it as a tool to get a better settlement. It is ugly all the way around, but these cases are only a small percentage of the norm. In reality, we are implored to treasure the sanctity of marriage. We have to work harder, teach our children better, and try not to give in to the careless way people are treating marriages today.

Pauline Dushey heads an organization called Harmony; before we take the wheel of a car, we all take driving lessons—these are lessons in getting along. Of course, if the relationship is abusive on either side, and the marriage is over, a get should be given, but a contract is only worth something if its enforceable. We need to come up with a kosher halachic prenup—with endorsement from our rabbis. Our community organizations are also available; SAFE, Bikur Holim, The Shalom Task Force, ORA, which has been helping agunot for years, and many others are all here for us. It does not have to come to this.”

We are braver than we think, and stronger than we know

The fabric of our community is based around family and Torah values, and everything that is happening today is working towards that. Many women are still leading double lives; chained, but taking care of their families and doing what they have to do. Today, a transformation is happening. Photos of get-refusers are now in the lobbies of our synagogues and community support is out in full force. Is that a good thing? Is it fair to the children and families of the get-refuser? Silence and secrecy are toxic, but shame is sometimes worse than death. We are still the children of Israel; of Aram Soba. We don’t need to know the details, and we don’t need to speak lashon hara. We need to make changes in the way we behave, so this doesn’t happen anymore. We shouldn’t have to choose between justice and integrity, but this situation is forcing our hands. We can and must do better.

My phone is next to me, permanently plugged in, because what battery could possibly stay charged while watching Instagram around the clock? Thousands of viewers tune in to Mexican Pacino’s broadcast every day. People of all different ages and types are coming together to support this issue; layman, rabbis, liberal and conservative. This crisis has taken on a life of its own, using social media, finally, for good. As I go over the events of the past few weeks, my heart breaks, over and over again. While it may or may not be a man’s world, it’s beautiful to see both men and women standing up for what’s right. I can’t help but turn to the women in the Tanach who were so strong. Sara, Rivka, Rachel and Leah, Miriam, Devorah, Yael, and Esther, each changing the world in her own way. My grandmother taught me a lot, but mostly she taught me that our power comes from the inside. If we raise our sons and daughters with confidence and self-esteem, then maybe we will see less of these traumas in the future.

“The winners are the do-ers,” Harry said, so that’s who we are going to be. What can I do, I keep asking myself; how can I help? I can write, I say. As Rabbi Ozeri said, “May peace reign in our community and may we see the coming of the mashiach speedily.”

Thank you to everyone, mentioned and not mentioned, who spoke to me and allowed me to share their thoughts in this article. Whenever I write for the community, I am extremely careful with my words, but this piece was particularly volatile. What happened to these women is inexcusable. I wrote with a full heart aching for them, and I hope
that I did not inadvertently hurt or insult anyone in the process. May Hashem watch over my words and our community and never allow anything like this to happen again.
~ Sophia Franco, community writer and lyricist

Sophia Franco