Finding the “You” Towards Whom We Travel: Was Foulkes Familiar with Genesis 12:1? [1]
It is common knowledge that Foulkes was a Jewish refugee from nazi Germany and that he was not a religiously observant Jew. According to his grandson, Tony Ward, he showed little interest in Judaism and was not at all religious (Levin and Nitzgen, 2020). Foulkes wrote that:
“Religion, if it is worth anything, must be sincere and deeply believed” (but) “… as true scientists, it is hard for us to treat any such religious system differently from any other mythology or superstitious belief … while as scientists we cannot well be true adherents to a particular religious system, the artistic side in us, the creative side, is a full equivalent for us.” (Foulkes 1975/1986: 158-159).
In her memoir, Foulkes’s wife Elizabeth writes that he was “… the youngest son of a comfortably-off Jewish family.” (E. Foulkes 1990: 4), but she offers no further information about the family’s religious background or practice.
I am not aware of any published suggestion that Foulkes might have been exposed to any extent to Jewish learning when he was a young child or whether he might have been influenced by traditional Jewish faith or practice while he was growing up. However, while reading a commentary on Chapter 12:1 of the book of Genesis by the former Chief Rabbi of the UK and Commonwealth, the late Lord Jonathan Sacks, I was struck by some words that reminded me of Foulkes’s concepts of the foundation matrix and the social unconscious.
Lord Sacks writes:
(People) ‘… adopt the standards and absorb the culture of the time and place in which they live … At a deeper level, they are influenced by friends and neighbours … More deeply still, they are shaped by their parents and the family in which they grow up …’ (Sacks 2015: 13).
Lord Sacks is commenting here on a chapter in the Bible known in Hebrew as Lech Lecha[2], which is variously translated as “Go!”, “Take yourself”, “Go for yourself”. In this verse, God tells Abraham to ‘Leave your land, your birthplace, and your father’s house …’ (Genesis Chapter 12:1). It is interesting to consider whether Foulkes was, consciously or unconsciously, aware of this verse.
Rabbi Jonathan Wittenberg, Senior Rabbi of the Assembly of Masorti Synagogues UK, helps to explore this question further. He suggests that Lech Lecha can be read as ‘not simply an emphatic participle “Get theegone”, but as “to you”: go to yourself”; make life a journey of ever deeper self-discovery …’ (Wittenberg 2023: 28; italics in original). In support of his suggestion, he cites two 18th-19th century rabbis who taught ‘You must travel until you arrive at the roots of your own soul, of – you’; or alternatively ‘…where I’ll reveal to you your own true self’ (my italics).
Wittenberg then takes this idea even further. He translates the words Lech Lecha literally, even quite concretely, to suggest that
‘Lech Lecha instructs us to “go to you”, to the you, to the other person we encounter in every interaction. Life is a voyage not just towards our own inner self but also to other people: who we are is what we mean to them, and they to us … In finding the “you” towards whom we travel, we also find our best and deepest “me”’ (Wittenberg 2023: 29-30; italics in original).
This sounds to me like the essence of group analysis. Was Foulkes familiar with this verse, these words, with Lech Lecha? Was he influenced by them in some way when he began to formulate his thinking about the foundation matrix, the social unconscious and the dynamic matrix? Westcott (1993: 42) suggests that we may come to recognise ourselves both in religious practice and in group analysis through the “…revelation others offer us”. Martin Buber expresses a similar thought: ‘I become through my relation to the Thou; as I become I, I say Thou. All real living is meeting.’ (Buber 1923/1958: 17; italics in original).
Buber writes about a single word used by the indigenous people of Tierra del Fuego which means ‘“They stare at one another, each waiting for the other to volunteer to do what both wish, but are not able to do”’ (Buber 1923/1958: 22). When we are willing to travel towards the other, the ‘you’, and to listen to and hear the ‘you’ and, at the same time, to listen attentively to what we ourselves say, we can offer a connection, ‘a refuge from our indifferent world’ (Remen 2001, quoted by Wittenberg 2023: 34-35). In these times of discord and division in so many areas of our indifferent world, can we find the paths to move towards the ‘you’; to move us closer to each other in our own dynamic matrices? Korf (2021: 29) expresses the hope that ‘group analysis can facilitate some listening amongst all the shouting.’ ‘What is needed, perhaps, is to deepen our dialogue until it touches our lament and silent powerlessness’ (Westcott, 1993: 52).
References
Buber M. (1923/1958) I and Thou. Translated by R. G. Smith. Kindle edition.
Foulkes E. (1990) S.H. Foulkes: A brief memoir. In: E. Foulkes (Ed.) S.H. Foulkes Selected Papers. Psychoanalysis and Group Analysis. London: Karnac 1990, pp.3-20.
Foulkes S.H. (1975/1986) Group Analytic Psychotherapy. Method and Principles. London: Karnac.
Korf F. (2021) Listening to religion in the group. Unpublished dissertation submitted for the Qualifying Course in Group Analysis, IGA (London).
Levin U. and Nitzgen D. (2020) My grandfather, Michael Foulkes: An interview with Tony Ward. Group Analysis 53(3): 361-373.
Remen R.N. (2001) My Grandfather’s Blessings: Stories of Strength, Refuge and Belonging. New York: Riverhead Books.
Sacks J. (2015) Lessons in Leadership. Maggid Books & OU Press: Jerusalem.
Westcott B. (1993) Group analysis and religion: is there a common ground? Ideas arising from paper by Gregory van der Kleij. Group Analysis 26(1): 39-53.
Wittenberg J. (2023) Listening for God in Torah and Creation. London: Hodder & Stoughton.
[1] I am grateful to Felix Korf for allowing me access to his dissertation (Korf 2021); for adding, through that dissertation, a discussion of religion and spirituality to current group analytic discourse; and for his helpful comments and suggestions about this paper.
[2] “ch” in the words ‘Lech Lecha’ is pronounced with a guttural sound as in the Scottish/Gaelic ‘loch’ – e.g. Loch Ness.