14 Nov NATURE OR NURTURE? THE REMARKABLE STORY OF TWINS SEPARATED AT SIX MONTHS OLD
As twins, Jack and
Oskar shared the same
DNA, the same nature,
and yet, they emerged
radically different
people. Born in
Trinidad in 1933, they
were six months old
when their parents divorced. Oskar went to
Germany with his Catholic mother, while
Jack stayed with his Romanian Jewish
father. Oskar grew up as the Nazis rose to
power, greeted the school principal with
“Heil Hitler,” and later joined the Hitler
Youth movement.
Jack, meanwhile, always considered
himself Jewish (though halachically he
wasn’t), but didn’t understand the
significance of that identity until he was 15
years old and was sent to Venezuela to live
with his aunt. A survivor of Dachau, she
was the only person from his father’s side to
make it out alive.
After the war, Jack’s aunt encouraged him
to move to Israel and so at 16, he made
Aliyah and joined the Israeli Navy,
ultimately becoming an officer. In 1954,
Jack went to Germany to meet his identical
twin. They were 21 when they met for the
first time as adults.
Psychologist Nancy Segal tells the story of
that encounter in her book “Indivisible by
Two: Lives of Extraordinary Twins.” Jack
and Oskar examined one another as if they
were looking at an alien, even though the
other’s appearance should have been
entirely familiar to them. Their cultural
differences were as immediately apparent as
their physical similarities. Casting a wary
eye at Jack’s Israeli luggage tags, Oskar
removed them and told his long-lost
brother to tell others he was coming from
America, not from Israel.
Suffice it to say that the first reunion did
not go well. Two brothers – one raised the
proud son of a Jewish man who served in
the Israeli Navy and the other raised a
German Catholic who had risen in the Nazi
Youth movement and been taught to hate
Jews. Because of the language barrier they
couldn’t communicate much. At the end of
the visit, they shook hands like strangers
and Jack set off to San Diego where he lived
the remainder of his life.
In 1979, Jack read about a study being
done on twins and the great debate between
nature and nurture. He asked if he and his
brother could participate and thought after
25 years it might provide another
opportunity for them to see one another
and develop a relationship.
They met at the Minneapolis airport
and to their amazement discovered
they were wearing the exact same
thing – a white sports jacket, similar
shirt and wire- rimmed glasses.
During the study, they learned that
they had so much in common. Both
were stubborn and arrogant, both
fiercely competitive. Both read books
from back to front, both sneezed
incredibly loudly, they walked in a
similar fashion, and they both wore
rubber bands around their wrists.
And yet, with all that nature gave them in
common, nurture had made them different.
They could never agree on issues about
Israel and her enemies or who was
responsible for World War II. Oskar’s
repeated reference to German soldiers as
‘we’ infuriated Jack. In a BBC documentary
about the twins, Jack describes that they
tried to like each other and enjoy each
other’s company but there was always
something in the background that they
could not tolerate about one another. Jack
died a few years ago at 82 years old. Oskar
passed away in 1997
As twins, Esav and Yaakov shared the
same DNA, the same nature, and yet,
they emerged radically different people.
One became a patriarch of our people
and the other a great villain of Jewish
History, the progenitor of Edom, the
exile in which we remain until this very
day.
Rashi and the Rashbam both explain
that the name Esav comes from עשוי
which means complete or finished
product. The simple way to understand
this is as a superficial description of
Esav’s appearance. He was physically
mature, covered in hair and appeared
complete, fully grown as an adult.
However, perhaps Esav’s name and its
implication about his being complete is
not just about his physique but much
more importantly about his spirit and
approach to life. In his Menachem
Tziyon, Rav Menachem Bentzion Zaks
points out that the Torah describes that
this image of Esav is consistent with the
Torah’s description of him as a “man
who knows hunting, a man of the field.”
Esav remains a primitive, boorish man
who spent his days among the animals,
doing what animals do – hunting in the
field. Esav sees himself from the start as
a finished product. What you see is
what you get. He had no interest or
ambition to grow, change, or improve.
He was עשוי, complete from the start.
Rav Zaks suggests that Yaakov’s name
reflects the exact opposite quality, the
insatiable appetite for growth and
improvement. The root of Yaakov’s name is
“akeiv,” or “heel.” When we walk, the heel is
the first part of the foot that touches the
ground, says Rav Zaks. It represents the
beginning, the first step, with much to
follow. Akeiv means the beginning of a
process with much greater things to come
as in the expression, “ikvesa de-Meshicha,
heel of the Messianic Era.”
Esav and Yaakov are twins who enter the
world with the same DNA, the same
“nature,” but who bring contrasting
attitudes towards their “nurture.” Esav is
satisfied with who he is from the start while
Yaakov feels entering the world is just the
first of many steps and journeys to come.
Indeed, while Esav is spiritually stagnant,
remains immature and undeveloped,
Yaakov spends his life struggling, wrestling
and thereby growing. In our Parsha, he
overcomes his shy nature to assert himself,
first by obtaining the birthright and then
collecting on it by going entirely against his
nature and tricking his father into giving
him a beracha. Later, before his reunion
with Esav, we will read of his encounter
with the angel with whom he wrestles the
entire evening and triumphs. The shy,
passive yeshiva bochur who is characterized
as sitting learning diligently in the tent,
emerges the strong, dynamic, assertive
patriarch and leader who is among the
greatest role models of our people.
Esav chooses to remain עשוי but Yaakov
puts one foot in front of the other, walks,
jogs and ultimately runs to his destiny as
Yisrael. No matter what our nature, we are
not finished products. We can nurture
ourselves to grow, improve, and change in
all areas of our lives. We are Bnai Yisrael,
we are the children of Yaakov.
Jack and Oskar did not leave legacies
based on the “natures” they shared in
common like sneezing loudly or by the way
they walked. Because of how they were
nurtured, Jack left a legacy of having been
an officer in the Israeli Navy while Oskar
left of a legacy of having been an enthusiastic
member of the Nazi youth.
We all have natures that predispose us, but
through the way we nurture our lives,
ultimately, we can choose who we are and
the legacy we leave.