Fascination with some Biblical Names

The Gemara in Berachos teaches "shma garim," that a name foretells a person's destiny. It teaches us that a name has a person's future stored in it. Thus by studying names we see the hand of Hashem - for seeing the events ahead of time in a person's name precludes any element of chance.

So, for example, Hevel's name, which means "vanity" - and is quite an unusual choice for parents to make - actually prophesied his dying in vain at the hands of his brother. Similarly "Noach" has the same letters as "chein," prophesying the fact that that he would find favor in the eyes of Hashem. So too "Moshe" has the same letters as "Hashem," for no human would come as close to Hashem as he. And the list goes on and on.

Sarah Imeinu's maidservant was called "Hagar." Rashi informs us that Hagar was the daughter of Paraoh and that she gave up all the grandeur of her father's court when she realized the truths of Sarah and Avraham. It is therefore perfect that "Hagar" also can be read "Ha Ger," the ultimate convert, because that is exactly what she was. Hagar in gematria also equals 208, the exact numerical value of "Yitzchak" - since it was in the merit of introducing Hagar as a rival that Yitzchak was born.

But there's more! Hagar also has in its root "gimel-reish," which means to contend and be contentious. This accurately describes Hagar's nature, for she went against her whole upbringing and gave up her lavish surroundings to become a handmaid to Sarah. This demonstrates a very vigorous spirit. Then, after years of venerating Sarah and upon seeing her immediate pregnancy, she contended with Sarah as well.

But we're not finished yet. There's more. The posuk says that Hagar was Sarah's handmaid. Why exclusively Sarah's? The Medrash informs us that when Paraoh witnessed Sarah's incredible modesty, he awarded Hagar to her. And the Medrash explains that Hagar is a composition of two words - "Ha Igracha," which means "Here is your reward." So there's quite a lot packed in ahead of time in the little name "Hagar"!

Another fascinating Biblical personality that we learned about recently is Og. Where did the name "Og" come from? The Medrash tells us that when Og came to inform Avraham that his nephew Lot had been taken into captivity by the Four Kings, it was Erev Pesach. At that time Og witnessed Avraham baking matzos. He asked Avraham, "What are these strange cakes?" Now, cake in Hebrew is called an "ooga," and thus he became known as "Og."

Now, while this might sound like just a piece of Biblical trivia, there really is a deep significance in this lesson. The Medrash tells us that Og built 60 cities. His career was incredibly lengthy, starting from before the Flood and extending all the way to Moshe Rabbeinu. He witnessed much in his life. Yet the event that was most momentous and meaningful in his long and checkered career was seeing Avraham Avinu bake matzos! What a powerful lesson on the importance of mitzvos.

If you look at the name "Og," its anagram is the word "gava," which means to expire. The Medrash tells us that the reason that Hashem kept Og alive for almost a thousand years is to show the world what people were like before the Flood, thereby demonstrating the might of Hashem - that He was able to punish an entire world of such prehistoric giants. Thus Og's very existence was a testimony to "Kol asher b'aretz yigbah - Everything that was upon earth expired." Hence his name is an anagram of "gava."

For our next name, let's take a look at a very contemporary subject. When Hagar had her child, Hashem told her to name him "Yishmael," which literally means that G-d listened to her prayers. But the Medrash informs us that this word means "Yishma Kel - G-d will listen," for it prophetically revealed that Yishmael's descendants, the Arabs, would generate many Jewish prayers, causing Hashem to listen to the urgent cries of His people. How amazing! A boy is born to a former bondmaid and a prophecy is revealed that, thousands of years later, his myriad descendants would repeatedly cause Tehillim to be said by Jews all around the world.

Indeed the description of Yishmael is replete with amazing prophecy. The description that he will be a "perre adam - a wild (ass-like) man" is a perfect description of the Arab mentality. Who else would send little children with rocks to confront high-tech tanks? Who else but a wild subhuman people would go on suicide mission after suicide mission? And what about the testimony of what the posuk says, "V'yad kol bo - And everyone's hands will be in him," which the Targum translates to mean "That all will need him." How awesome a prophecy this is, that nations - world over - are in urgent need of Arab oil. And what about the verse that tells us "Al p'nei kol echav yishkon - That he (Yishmael's descendants) will dwell on the face of all of his brethren." How uncannily accurate is this description of how the Arabs totally encircle the Jewish people, literally camping upon all of their borders.

Already at the beginning of mankind, names loomed as an important subject. The very first job that Hashem gave to Adam was to name the animal kingdom. This was a massive task - to name the myriad of prehistoric species. And when Adam finished this mission, Hashem applauded him, indicating that whatever he had called these animals was indeed their correct names.

This is quite puzzling. If they were nameless before, then of course whatever he called them would become their names. What exactly was the substance of Hashem's praise to Adam?

The commentators explain that a name is not a mere label. Rather it intrinsically points to the essence of that which it is naming. To contrast, in the English language, we call the four-legged "bow-wow" a "dog." However, since the letters D-O-G spell also G-O-D, it is unlikely that there is an intrinsic message here (unless you're a dog worshiper).

On the other hand, in Lashon Kodesh, the Holy Tongue, a dog is called a "kelev." The word "kelev" contains a corruption of two words: "kol" and "lev," i.e., "with all its heart" (using the "lamed" in the middle on both ends). This is an accurate description of the essence of a dog, which never bites the hand that feeds it and is unceasingly loyal to its master.

This explains why such a great personality as Kalev ben Yefuneh would be named "Kalev." At first it would seem odd that such a righteous individual, a giant of his generation, would be given a name that means "dog," but now we understand completely - for Kalev demonstrated total loyalty to Hashem when he defied the wishes of the majority of the spies and loyally defended the reputation of Eretz Yisroel. This example serves to illustrate how every name intrinsically alludes to the nature of what it is describing.

Similarly water is named "mayim." Not only is it made up of two "mems" and one "yud," which parallel the molecular makeup of H2O (two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen), but it is also a palindrome - a word that reads the same from the front and the back. This is to illustrate that the water cycle is reciprocal in nature - first coming down from the sky, then being pumped up as water vapor, only to return once again from the sky.

As well, the sun is called "shemesh," another palindrome, since it goes back and forth from east to west, on an unceasing mission to serve its Creator. How accurate is the fact that the name "shemesh" can be read "shamash," for it is the ultimate sexton of the earth, helping to keep the world pleasantly lit and warm and ensuring the growth of the world's vitality.

In many Chasidishe seforim, we are taught that the gematria of the word "shem" (name) is 340. It is the same numeric value as the word "tzinor," a pipeline, for one's name is the conduit that helps to bring down one's shefah bracha (divine blessings) from Heaven. It is for this reason that when people are blessed with a daughter, some try to make the kiddush on the day that they name the child, since this is a time for great celebration - awarding the child with her connection with Heaven.

With our heightened understanding of the importance and weightiness of a Jewish name, we can now better understand why one of the three reasons we were redeemed from Mitzrayim was that we didn't change our Jewish names. At first glance, a name merely seems to have sentimental value, but now we see that our attachment to our ancient names means that we have devotedly refused to divest ourselves of our Heavenly connection.

Here are two contemporary stories that show how much stock we put in what our name is. The great Rav Sonnenfeld of Yerushalayim once took seriously ill with pneumonia. At that time pneumonia was often fatal. His Rebbe, the Brisker Rav, Rav Yehoshua Leib Diskin, added the name "Yosef" to his existing name "Chaim." Thus he became known as Rav Yosef Chaim Sonnenfeld,and baruch Hashem he recovered from his illness.

One Purim after this event, he brought Shalach Manos to his Rebbe - very early on Purim day. When the Brisker Rav commented on what a zarid (energetic person) he was, Rav Sonnenfeld answered, "Well, the Rebbe made me that way." Upon close inspection of this cryptic comment, we find that the numeric value of the name "Yosef Chaim" is identical with the gematria of "zarid." Thus he was saying that his Rebbe, who added "Yosef" to his name, added the quality of "zarid" to the essence of his being!

In another fascinating story, the Torah Temimah relates that there was once an individual named Yechiel Michel who took ill. When they wanted to add the name "Chaim" (which is one of the customary names that is added to an ill person - together with such names as "Yosef," "Refoel," "Alter," "Chaya" and the like), someone said, "Don't add 'Chaim'!" and the Rav agreed by saying cryptically, "Yemach shemo - His name will be blotted out." The Torah Temimah explains this enigmatic comment to mean that if the name "Chaim" would be added to "Yechiel Michel," it would then form the abbreviation "Yud-Mem-Ches," which would spell "YeMaCH - he should be blotted out." Therefore such a sequence of names should be avoided.

The events surrounding the name "Yaakov" are very puzzling. The Torah explains that he was given the name because upon birth, "V'yodo ochezes ba'akeiv Esav - And his hand grasped the heel [of his twin] Esav." Now, why would we name - for perpetuity - one of the greatest men ever to live after a seemingly insignificant happening in the birthing room?

The Tur on Chumash gives a beautiful and revealing explanation. He teaches us that when a mother delivers twins, after the first one is born she usually has to go through the entire pain of labor and delivery a second time. With kindness already apparent in his infancy, Yaakov wanted to spare his mother a second round of pain. He therefore held on to his brother's heel and came out at the same time as Esav, thus saving his mother from having to go through the birth pains twice.

Thus the name "Yaakov," at its very inception, is a symbol of kindness and compassion. Now when we think of the hundreds of Bais Yaakov schools for girls that Baruch Hashem sprinkle the world, we will attach greater significance to its meaning, for, among many things, it stands for Houses of Chesed in the footsteps of our great father Yaakov.

Rabbi Eli Teitelbaum, the great Marbetz Torah and creator of Dial-A-Daf and Dial-A-Shiur, shared another interesting insight into the name "Yaakov" with me. As we know, we give names to commemorate miracles that happened. Thus when Moshe Rabbeinu was saved from the sword of Paraoh, he called his son "Eliezer," which stands for "Elokei avi b'ezri - The G-d of my father came to my defense." Similarly Basya, the daughter of Paraoh, called Moshe Rabbeinu by the name "Moshe," "Ki min hamayim mishisihu - From the water I have drawn him," in order to commemorate the miracle of her hand telescoping 400 amos to reach Moshe Rabbeinu. We know that Esav was called by that name because it can also be read "asoo," completed, for Esav was born fully formed and, as the Targum Ben Uziel elaborates, he already had a beard, front teeth and even molars.

Did you ever wonder why Rivka, who was only 22 when she had the twins, never had any more children? The answer is that Esav, deciding he didn't want any further competition from siblings, kicked ferociously upon exiting his mother's womb and destroyed it. This is one of the reasons he was called "Edom," ruddy red, because he emerged full of his mother's blood. Then Esav shifted his murderous intentions to his little twin, figuring he could get rid of all the competition by smashing straight into the vulnerable fontanel of Yaakov's delicate infant head with his heel. But lo and behold, Hashem made a miracle and Yaakov's weak infant hand was able to hold back the full force of Esav's murderous heel. Thus the name "Yaakov" commemorates this great miracle for eternity. See how much history is hidden in the Biblical names!

As we know, Yaakov was given another name - "Yisroel" - and it is with this name that our people and our land are primarily identified. "Klal Yisroel" and "B'nei Yisroel" are the names of our people, while "Eretz Yisroel" is the proud name of our land.

Here is a fascinating insight into the name "Yisroel." The letters that make up this very special name ("yud-sin-reish-aleph-lamed") form an abbreviation that stands for all of our avos and imahos, our patriarchs and matriarchs. The "yud" stands for Yitzchak and Yaakov, the "sin" for Sarah and the "reish" for Rivka and Rochel. The "aleph" stands for Avraham and, finally, the "lamed" for Leah. Thus in a very profound way we are the B'nei Yisroel, the children of our great forefathers and mothers.

The Torah tells us about Efron HaChiti. Here was a man who made it into the Torah for all time because he had a very special piece of real estate. In his possession was the rarefied burial site of Adam and Chava, the direct handiwork of Hashem. This was the very essence of his existence - that he would be the messenger to transfer ownership of M'oras HaMachpelah to Avraham Avinu.

There was also a great personal challenge involved: whether Efron would be generous or stingy in the sale. History reveals that, while he promised much, he was miserly in the extreme, exacting from Avraham 400 shekel kesef - a princely sum - and further demanding that its payment be in the most liquid of currencies.

Lo and behold, all of these events are hidden in Efron's name. The word "Efron" is an anagram of "pira-on," which means "to exact payment," for that was precisely what Efron did. The word "Efron" can also be read "afaron," dust and earth, since he exacted payment for the earth of M'oras HaMachpelah.

But that's not all. Toward the end of the incident, the Torah drops the letter "vav" from Efron's name to depict his cheapness and smallness of character. Spelled without the "vav," the word "Efron" consists of an "ayin" - which equals 70, a "fei" - which equals 80, a "reish" - which equals 200, and a "nun" - which equals 50. Remarkably the value of these letters total 400 in gematria - the exact amount that Efron insisted upon in payment for M'oras HaMachpelah. This is yet another marvelous example of the secrets working in Biblical names!

After Yitzchak's marriage, the Torah tells us, "Vayosef Avraham vayikach isha u'shma Keturah - Avraham added a wife by the name of Keturah." Rashi informs us that she was none other than Hagar. Why the name change? Rashi gives us two reasons. First, her deeds were as sweet as ketores, the sweet-smelling incense offered on the altar. Second, Keturah contains the Aramaic word "katar," which means "to tie," alluding to the fact that, after leaving Avraham, she abstained from any relations with any other man (cf. Rashi).

Let's analyze Rashi's first reason. If she was called "Keturah" because of her sweet deeds, why wasn't she called "Naomi" or "Naamah"? These are names of great people (the mother-in-law of Rus and the wife of Noach) who were named after their ne'imus - their sweet deeds. Why the additional analogy to the ketores? I believe that this comparison is to indicate that Hagar's sweetness of character came out after she was "burnt" by the suffering of being expelled from Avraham and Sarah's home. Thus she was compared to the incense that only emits a sweet fragrance upon being burned.

Rashi's second reason, that her name indicates her fidelity to Avraham even after being evicted from his home with her son, reveals a profound massage. Hagar was a Mitzris, and the Mitzrim were known for their promiscuous and lewd nature. That Hagar went against her natural inclination and remained faithful to Avraham was a supreme exhibition of breaking her nature and doing good. In this way she showed that she was an admirable match for Avraham, who we know went against his nature of kindness to offer his son on the akeidah. Thus this new name beautifully shows that, although the initial reason for taking Hagar - namely to have Yitzchak - no longer applied, Keturah was a fitting mate in her own right. Thus we have yet another wonderful example of how a name sheds light on a person's makeup.

So as we marvel at Hashem's prophecies and at the wondrous names in His Torah, may the prophecy speedily come to be, "Vahaya ... b'yom hahu yihyeh Hashem Echad U'shemo Echad - And it will be in that day that Hashem will be One and His Name will be One," and may we all be in good health to live to see it.

The Gemara in Berachos teaches "shma garim," that a name foretells a person's destiny. It teaches us that a name has a person's future stored in it.

Thank you very much for the ping.

This could be easy dismissed by saying that any name could be manipulated, rearranged, or interpreted so as to appear prophetic. However, I know differently from personal experience. When I unknowingly met a prophet who foretold my son's birth, I laughed and shrugged it off. It completely left my mind until my son was a couple of months old, and suddenly I realized that the man was right, and about the time too. Interesting, but it was still open to dismissal, as an odd coincidence. It was years later before I realized that both names we had given him, were a perfect reflection of the prophecy and also of my dismissive reaction. Talk about timing... we were all talking about this just two days ago.

The Torah Temimah explains this enigmatic comment to mean that if the name "Chaim" would be added to "Yechiel Michel," it would then form the abbreviation "Yud-Mem-Ches," which would spell "YeMaCH - he should be blotted out." Therefore such a sequence of names should be avoided.

Great. Israel just turned 58.

A few months ago I ran across this [old] article about Israeli naming conventions. It's a similar topic, with a modern/secular theme.

Call Me Adiella
by Dina Shiloh
Jerusalem Post
Sunday, May 11, 1997 / 5 Iyyar 5757

For thousands of years Jews managed with just about 150 biblical first
names, but these days the sky's the limit.

When Judith Djemal gave birth to her third daughter she couldn't think of a
name. "The first two, Talia and Yael, were hard to choose as well, but with
this one, I really didn't know what to call her. People kept suggesting
names, but nothing sounded right," she says, sitting in the playroom of her
children, surrounded by toys and stuffed animals.

So Djemal made up a name for her daughter: Adiella.

"I'd heard of the name Adiel for a boy, so we just added the ending for a
girl. We wanted something unusual and different - but with a Jewish meaning.
Adiella means 'jewel of God,' " she explains. Though Djemal says she has
since seen "Adiella" in a book of Israeli names, she has never heard of
another child with this name in Israel.

Adiella, now two, carries on stuffing a toy panda into a box, unaware she
has a "special" name.

The search for something different and new is characteristic of Israeli
parents, says Prof. Benjamin Beit-Hallahmi, a psychologist at Haifa
University.

He has researched Israeli Jewish names for almost 20 years, using the
comprehensive data of the Interior Ministry.

"Among Israelis, the desire to change and innovate in naming practices can't
be explained on the basis of novelty-seeking alone," he says. "They are
making an important cultural statement in their move away from traditional
names, such as Sara, Rahel and Esther for girls, and Moshe and Avraham for
boys."

Beit-Hallahmi traces Israelis' desire to find new names all the way back to
the first Zionists who settled in Palestine. For thousands of years, Jews
named their children after figures in the Bible, but only those who were
religious and virtuous. Out of 1,400 names in the Old Testament, they used
only 150. For boys these included the Patriarchs - Abraham, Isaac and Jacob;
Jacob's children; a few prophets; and some of the kings. The judges were
mostly excluded. Girls were named after virtuous biblical women, like
Deborah and Sarah.

To these were added Diaspora names, usually Yiddish ones, such as Zelig and
Bayla. Sephardi Jews also used the same 150 biblical names, with a few
additions taken from their surrounding cultures. Occasionally, Jewish
children were given secular names as well as Jewish ones.

In the Diaspora the "double name" tradition has remained to this day,
reflecting a kind of dual identity, Beit-Hallahmi says. Many Jewish children
today are given a Jewish name they do not use at all. "My Hebrew name is
Reuven, but everyone uses my English name," says Richard Miron, a journalist
originally from England. "I don't think any of my friends are aware that I
have another name."

But for the hundreds of years in the Diaspora until the Emancipation, the
real name, the one used by family and friends, was always the Jewish name.
For Jews who wanted to leave the Jewish community and assimilate into the
surrounding culture, using a secular name was a must. But if you wanted to
stay within the Jewish community, your choice of names was more limited.
"Diaspora Jews had very clear rules, kept for hundreds of years,"
Beit-Hallahmi says.

"They used the limited, traditional, pool of names. There are many
references in the Talmud about not using the names of sinners, so they knew
which names were acceptable and which were not. And they kept names in the
family by naming babies after deceased relatives." All that changed when
Zionism became a powerful political force in the late 19th century. Zionists
wanted to rebel against Diaspora culture in every way. By renaming
themselves with modern Hebrew names, they were making the strongest
statement possible about their beliefs. As Zionist Jews arrived in Palestine
to work the land, they cast off their old identities and with them, their
old names.

David Gruen, who arrived in Palestine in 1905, changed his name to David
Ben-Gurion. The name, which means "son of a lion cub," was taken from the
Talmud, where Nakdimon Ben-Gurion is described as a member of a noble,
wealthy family of the Second Temple period.

Other Diaspora Jews who changed their names and became important leaders
include Levi Shkolnik - Levi Eshkol (Israel's third prime minister); and
Izhak Shimshelevich - Izhak Ben-Zvi (the second president).

The Zionists still wanted their names to come from the Bible, but they
deliberately chose "unconventional" biblical names as an act of defiance.
Traditional names were tainted with the Diaspora. The new Zionists looked
for names that were tied to a glorious Jewish past, particularly a glorious
military past.

"The name Bar-Kochba is a good example of this," Beit-Hallahmi says. "He was
a leader of the last Jewish revolt against the Romans. But he was denounced
by talmudic sages, so Diaspora Jews never used his name. The development of
Zionism returned the name Bar-Kochba to the national pantheon."

The names of Yohanan and Giora, other Jews who rebelled against the Romans,
were similarly reclaimed. Boaz, who tilled the earth, was a popular "new"
name for those early settlers. Amnon, who raped his sister in the Bible, was
reintroduced.

With their Hebrew names, the early Zionists hoped to make their dreams of a
Jewish state more accessible and real.

The early Zionists didn't stop at first names. Diaspora Jews, whose last
names were often Yiddish, German, Polish, Arabic or Russian - not
specifically Jewish or Hebrew names - were changed as well. The pioneer
spirit in Palestine was expressed by adopting geographical regions as last
names. Names like Sharon, Shomroni, Galili, Golani and Shiloh started to
appear in the 1920s.

Zionists also chose last names that emphasized the quality of strength,
including Even (stone), Sela (rock), Gazit (rock), Shaham (granite), Peled
(steel), Tamir (tall) and Amir (treetop). Tamir and Amir became first names
too.

The emphasis on names was so great that in 1948, Ben-Gurion, as prime
minister, ruled that no official representative of the state and no senior
military officer could keep a Diaspora name. When the IDF was officially
formed, in June 1948, all officers were told to adopt Hebrew names. Most
did.

During the first five years of the state, new immigrants enthusiastically
embraced new Israeli names. An incredible number of names were changed in
the first year of the state: 17,000 changes are recorded.

And the children of the new state were named not only after characters who
had been reclaimed from the Bible, but with brand new, made-up, names.
Ben-Gurion named his own children with both: Amos, from the Old Testament
but never used by Diaspora Jews; Geula, a new name meaning deliverance; and
Renana, another new name meaning joy.

Some enthusiastic Zionists named their children after Zionist leaders:
Herzl, Balfour and even Arlosor (after Arlosoroff). Giving a baby two first
names was avoided, as it was seen to be a religious tradition. In many new
Zionist names, there was a deliberate tendency to choose "bad" names from
the Bible. Names such as Avshalom, the rebellious son, which had been
avoided by Jews for 2,000 years, made their first reappearance with the
earliest Zionist settlers in Palestine.

Yoram was another name Jews avoided because two Old Testament kings with
that name both "did evil in the sight of the Lord." Writer Yoram Kaniuk says
it was the national poet, Haim Nahman Bialik, who suggested to his parents
that they call their son Yoram. It was a name that had not been in use for
thousands of years.

"Bialik was my sandek; he was a very good friend of my grandfather and my
mother," Kaniuk explains.

"He deliberately chose Yoram, the name of this 'bad' king, because he wanted
me to be a fighter, strong. My mother was flabbergasted at first, but she
accepted the name."

Bialik hoped the name Yoram would symbolize the "new Jew": defiant, strong,
irreligious. But Kaniuk says the name now has a meaning completely different
from the one Bialik intended.

"Yoram became a very popular name among middle-class Ashkenazi Israelis.
When these children grew up and became officers in the army, and managers,
the people who worked under them started to call them 'Yoram' in a
derogatory way. It originally meant someone who is nice, well-educated,
quiet, but it became a kind of insult. It's ironic because this is the
opposite of what Bialik wanted for the name 'Yoram.' "

During the 1940s, a movement known as the Canaanites sprang up. These
Zionists Jews, like others before them, wanted to reject Diaspora Jewish
tradition completely. But they went a step further: their ideology was
devoted to developing a new identity which they called "Hebrew" rather than
Jewish. It emphasized the ties of the Jewish settlers to the Middle East and
to ancient pre-Israelite traditions. Giving themselves and their children
ancient names was an important part of their philosophy. The founder of the
movement, Uriel Halperin, changed his last name to Shelah, and named his
children Hamman ("child of the sun"), Pura, Saharan ("moonchild") and
Canaan. These names may not be very popular today, but the Canaanite
movement's influence is still palpable.

"It's in the area of names that the Canaanite movement has won its greatest
victory," Beit-Hallahmi says.

"Most Israelis have become 'Canaanites' without realizing it. Some of the
most popular names in Israel, such as Anat and Nevo, are names of Canaanite
gods. Names such as Osnat, Hagar and Nimrod are Old Testament names that are
attached to non-Jewish, pagan traditions. These names were never used by
Jews until they came into fashion in Israel in the 1950s. "Adam, the
best-known name in the Old Testament, was never used by Jews because it
represents a non-Jewish person. But in Israel it became common as a boys'
name."

Girls' names, like Tamar and Dina - who were raped, and therefore considered
unacceptable by Diaspora Jews - were also brought back to use by Israelis.

By the 1960s, parents were once again ready for something new. Israelis were
moving away from a collective expression of their national aspirations into
individual expression. Names like Geula were ignored. Instead, a whole
generation was named - not after the early Zionist settlers, or after
Canaanites - with entirely new names that looked to nature for their
inspiration. Names such as Alon (oak), Shaked (almond), Oren (pine), Vered
(rose), Mor (myrrh), Gal (ocean wave) and Iris were tremendously popular.

These names are still in vogue, but Beit-Hallahmi detects another trend in
the past two decades.

"Israelis are giving their children bilingual names, such as Ben, Ron,
Shirley, Guy, Tom. This expresses a wish that the future may include a
sojourn overseas.

"Of course, in reality it's perfectly acceptable for a child in New York to
have a distinctly foreign name, to be called Chang if he has Chinese parents
and Yinnon if he has Israeli parents. The US is open to multicultural
names."

Kaniuk sees the fashion for bilingual first names as a part of the
Americanization of Israel.

"We used to call a k'tzitza [meat patty] a k'tzitza; now everybody calls it
a hamburger. People are not as connected to the Hebrew language as they used
to be. And people are less interested in the Bible. Our generation - which
was brought up in the youth movements, in the Palmah - we read the Bible.
Now the Bible is less influential, and people are less connected to its
language."

As Israelis became less interested in having specifically biblical or
Israeli names, the pace of altering last names slowed down.

"The first years of the state were characterized by exuberant optimism about
the newness and uniqueness of everything in Israel, and there was a great
deal of excitement about every expression of Jewish sovereignty, including
changing your name," Beit-Hallahmi says.

"The events of recent years have brought about more pessimism. So there is
less pressure on new immigrants to shed their non-Israeli last names." Natan
Sharansky, who changed his first name but not his last, is a case in point.

There is, of course, one group that hasn't changed its naming in the past
200 years. Haredim are still using the same 150 names always used by
Jews.When Susan Freed, who has six sons, had to choose their names, it
wasn't difficult at all.

"We name children after someone in the family who has passed away, or we
choose the name because of the season or the day he was born. We don't
choose names from the Bible which have bad connotations. We only name
children after people who have good characteristics," she explains. "Eliyahu
David was born on Motza'ei Shabbat, so that's why he is Eliyahu. There is a
tradition that the Messiah will arrive on Motzei Shabbat accompanied by
Eliyahu the Prophet. Rafael was born in the month of Refua (Iyar), so that
was easy. Haim is named after my grandfather.

"Binyamin Simcha is named after my father-in-law, who was called Binyamin,
and Simcha, because the brit was during Succot - a happy time. Asher is
named after my great-grandfather. And Moshe Avraham is named after an uncle.
I think he really takes after him, which is interesting."

Among haredim, girls' names like Esther, Sara, Rahel, Miriam, Rivka and
Dvora have not changed in centuries. But because of the enormous changes in
names among modern Orthodox and secular Israelis, it's possible to analyze
Israelis by their names alone.

"A person called Orly will be no older than 40, most likely of Sephardic
origin, and probably not from a religious family," Beit-Hallahmi speculates.

"A man called Oren or Alon is probably no older than 37, because this name
appeared only after 1960. The same goes for Keren for girls." The frantic
search for new names among Israelis reflects a crisis of identity,
Beit-Hallahmi says.

"There is a stampede to get away from the past. Even Anat and Yoram are now
considered ancient names. People want originality at any cost." Is the
desire for new names part of the "post-Zionist" world we live in now?

Beit-Hallahmi chuckles.

"You can call it that, but really it's an expression of the instability we
live in here. The question of whether we want to be Jewish, how and why -
these issues have not been resolved. Post-Zionism is a name for the crisis
Israelis find themselves in: We don't know where we are going, and we don't
know where we want to go. And that is reflected in the names we choose."

http://www.behindthename.com/bb_gen/arcview.php?id=39957

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