: The Golem Project :

an excerpt by Edgar Brau, translated by Andrea G. Labinger


Nowslightly more than a month since the Council announced the conclusion of The Golem Project, it is possible to verify that the outrageous suppositions and groundless allegations provoked by the revelation at the time still persist, creating a state of anxiety in which uneasiness and suspicion dangerously combine.  Misinformation, misinterpretations, omissions, and conjectures daily establish a foundation on which the Project's origins, its results, its future, and even the punishment that the creature-the Golem-must face, all fade in a haze of imprecision, or worse yet, ambiguity. As one of the representatives of the Council before the scientists in charge of the Project, I believe it might not be without merit to interrupt the current scandal (the current chaos) with this personal report.  Perhaps a precise spatial and temporal index of the Project and its development may serve to lessen, even indirectly, the blows of the dark, powerful current that alarms and overwhelms us today.


The Golem Project. The start of The Golem Project, its genesis, can be traced to the final months of the Second World War, when the creature's death was revealed, and we may assume, through the efforts of a sort of dream of justice on the part of some soldiers of Jewish descent who served in the vanguard of the Soviet Army, upon their occupation of a thoroughly defeated Berlin. Unfortunately, neither the names of those heroes nor the details of their actions have survived, but in fact, approximately half a year after that death and the end of the war, a portion of the creature's remains (stolen from the Soviets, who, in turn, had salvaged them from a hasty German bonfire) were found in Jerusalem, protected by those who would become military leaders when the creation of our State was announced. According to certain documents of that period, it had been resolved from the beginning that the urn containing the “monster's relics,” as they were then called, would remain hidden from public view. The documents did not indicate what the remains consisted of or what their specific use might be. Somehow, although neither those primitive documents nor subsequent ones mentioned anything definite about the future of the remains, it was obvious that those pioneers considered them something like a legacy, a tribute to successive layers of Israeli leadership. Furthermore, a tacit appeal was established and launched into time: each generation was to find the most appropriate way to deal with that secret, symbolic urn.