Muslim Father and His Son’s Journey to Lubavitch

By Dovid Zaklikowski for the COLlive Magazine

As a member of the Lubavitch community in Pittsburgh, few would know that Yosef Hashimi is anything but a successful, Harvard-educated technology consultant. But in the wider world, he is identified as Sayed Yousef Hashimi. Sayed is a name given to male descendants of Muhammad, the founder of Islam, and Yousef is an Arabic variant of Yosef.

Yosef was born in Kabul, Afghanistan in 1967 to a secular Muslim named Shirin and an American Jew named Elaine. They met in Tuscon, Arizona and made a pact that they would practice Islam in Afghanistan, but if they moved to the United States, they would practice Judaism.

Thus, for the first two years of Yosef’s life, he was raised Muslim. Once the family moved to Arizona, Shirin kept his word. The family’s religious practice consisted of whatever Elaine guided her husband to do, including attendance at a Conservative congregation in Phoenix, and mandatory Friday night meals during which phone use was not permitted. Elaine lit Shabbos candles, and Shirin put on a yarmulke for the meal. He would also attend yom tov services, faithfully wearing a tallis and yarmulke. “My father raised us with a strong Jewish identity and taught us to be proud of our yiddishkeit,” says Yosef.

In 1985, Yosef had gone to study at Arizona State University (ASU) in Tempe, Arizona. At the beginning of his sophomore year, after a breakup, Yosef was alone in his apartment, feeling devastated. He realized that he didn’t have friends whom he could turn to for support during this difficult time. He recalled, “upon reflecting why it was that I had no true friends, I realized that I was always going out of my way to let people know that I was smarter than them; in return, they made the simple and obvious choice to not be around a know-it-all.”

The young college student resolved at that moment to change himself and become a humbler person. A few weeks later, he was hanging out with David Makowsky, his brother’s best friend, at the Hillel House. David asked him why he had never attended on Friday nights. Despite celebrating Shabbos dinners his entire life, Yosef said that he just did not connect to the services at Hillel.

David told him then there was a newly-opened Chabad House near campus and Yosef was open to it. He had known of Chabad since his youth. His father’s mechanic shop would service the vehicle of Rabbi Zalman and Tzippy Levertov, directors of Chabad Lubavitch of Arizona. Yosef even attended a class taught by Rabbi Levertov as part of his Hebrew school education.

That very same week, Yosef visited the new Chabad House, arriving in time for mincha. Afterward, the Shliach Rabbi Yosef Kahanov gave a short talk, repeating a sicha of the Rebbe on the parsha. “You are like a vessel,” the rabbi said, “and if you are filled with ego, there is no room for G-d. A Jew needs to be humble in order to make room for G-d within.”

Yosef was floored. This was the exact thought that had been occupying him for weeks. After the Friday night davening, he walked over to Rabbi Kahanov and asked, “Do these teachings just tell you to be humble, or do they also teach you how?” The shliach, retrieving a Tanya from the shelf, said, “This is the guide to humility.”

Later that night, they sat down to learn the first chapter of Tanya together. By the time they reached the end of the chapter, he told Rabbi Kahanov, “My father is not Jewish and I simply cannot relate to what it says here about non-Jews. We have to stop learning this.”

Without hesitation, Rabbi Kahanov said there were plenty of other books of chassidus to learn from. From then on, the two mostly learned sichos of the Rebbe together. Yosef became a mainstay at the Chabad House, and began growing his connection to yiddishkeit. On his way to Israel, in 1987, Yosef stopped in Crown Heights where he attended Yeshiva Hadar HaTorah for a week. There he participated in a farbrengen with the Rebbe and joined the Lag B’Omer parade outside 770 Eastern Parkway.

During that week, Yosef spent considerable time exploring that first chapter in Tanya. “I really delved into it, and I came to terms with the idea that there are different types of non-Jews. I learned that there is a place in Chassidus for my father,” he recalled.

A year later, Rabbi Yosef and Rivkie Kahanov moved to another Shlichus position in Florida, while Yosef graduated college and started working in the professional world. He slowly drifted away from the Jewish observance he had recently been practicing, although he always maintained kashrus.

In 1992, Yosef left Phoenix for graduate school, where he continued his studies at Harvard University. There, Yosef and his would-be-wife Tamar found their way to the Chabad House at Boston University, and under the tutelage of Rabbi Shmuel and Chanie Posner, Yosef reconnected with his Jewish observance while Tamar began her journey.

All along, Yosef’s father has been supportive of his choice to become a religious Jew. Shirin had told Yosef that when it comes to minor issues, it is normal for parents to disagree, but when there are disagreements on larger matters, like religion, there are three possibilities: the child follows the mother, the father, or neither. Shirin was not willing for his children to choose neither, and reject G-d entirely. To him that would be the worst outcome possible. And so when Yosef started becoming more observant, he encouraged him to deepen his connection to Judaism.

In fact, on the night before his wedding to Tamar in 1994, Yosef’s mother and grandmother advised him to enjoy the first few years of their marriage as a couple, and only later have children. His father would have nothing to do with it and came up to him and said, “Son, give me as many grandkids as you can, as fast as you can.”

A year later, Yosef and Tamar had their first of six children. They named their oldest son Gavriel, but did not give him the first name Sayed. This did not sit well with Shirin and there was tension between father and son for about a year. This tension eventually evaporated and Elaine and Shirin settled into being Bubby and Zaida Hashimi.

After living in Baltimore and Chicago, the Hashimis moved to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, in 2004, where they were attracted by the dual-track curriculum at Yeshiva Schools of Pittsburgh.

It was there that they were introduced to Zev Rudolph, CEO of McKnight Realty Partners, and his wife Lieba. Over the next fifteen years, they became close family friends. “Tamar and Lieba are like sisters,” Yosef says. When the Rudolph’s daughter Mushkie got engaged to Yankie Shemtov of Tucson, Arizona, in September 2020, the Hashimis were overjoyed.

With the wedding scheduled for winter, and COVID-19 restrictions moving the festivities outdoors, the families decided to hold the wedding in Aventura, Florida. For the Hashimis, the Rudolphswere practically family, and there was no question that they would attend.

Some 325 miles from where the wedding would be held, Rabbi Yosef and Rivkie Kahanov also wanted to attend. Rabbi Kahanov, Director of Chabad Lubavitch of Northeast Florida in Jacksonville, has been a lifelong friend of the groom’s father, Rabbi Yossie Shemtov, Director of Chabad Tucson, since their childhood in Crown Heights.

At first, the Kahanovs weren’t sure about making the trip to the wedding but ultimately decided to go for it. “The fact that it was the wedding of my closest friend’s son, and in my home state, made it a possibility,” he said. “I probably would not have even considered traveling somewhere else. I felt that I needed to be with my friend.”

The wedding on a Thursday in December was a joyous event, joining the two families from Pittsburgh and Tucson together in Florida. Both the Hashimis and the Kahanovs were present at the outdoor chuppah and later at the wedding celebration but had no idea of each other’s presence.

At Shabbos sheva brachos, the Hashimis found a quiet table. When a couple joined them, they exchanged pleasantries and were soon conversing. While Yosef generally avoids talking about his background, one of the people at the table asked him where he was originally from and Yosef began sharing his life story with them.

He told them of his early exposure to Chabad back at Arizona State University, where the couple named Kahanov were Shluchim at the time, and had set him on the path to Torah observance.

“You mean Rabbi Yosef and Rivkie Kahanov? They are here!” the man said.

Seeing the bewilderment on Hashimi’s face, the people at the table explained that Rabbi Kahanov is close friends with the groom’s family, and while he normally does not travel, he came especially to this wedding. Yosef was shocked. He had not been in contact with the Kahanovs since they left Tempe in 1988.

He rushed over to the table where the Kahanovs were sitting, and simply said, “Hi Rabbi, it’s me, Yosef Hashimi.” Rabbi Kahanovwas stunned no less than Yosef was. He had heard years prior that Yosef had become religious, but he was not expecting to see a full-fledged bearded Lubavitcher in a hat and kapota.

The two emotionally embraced and began reminiscing about their past together. “It was a very overwhelming experience,” Rabbi Kahanov recalled. People nearby were deeply touched by the sight and the friendship that was rekindled. “It is a beautiful story,” said Mrs. Rudolph, “and we were fortunate that the vessel was through our simcha.”

Mrs. Kahanov says that it was a humbling experience for them. “As Shluchim,” she said, “sometimes you need to push yourself to reach out to that one person who may come to just one event. You don’t always get to see the fruits of your labor, but this time we were blessed to witness it for ourselves.”

In Chicago, David Makowsky said that it was not the norm for him to bring people to the Chabad House. “I entirely forgot that I had taken Yosef to the Chabad House. In fact, I still don’t remember it.” With that, he said, it seemed a minor act to bring someone to a Chabad House, but in fact, it turned out to be a huge factor in Yosef’s return to Judaism. Makowsky has learned to never look at anything that happens in life as insignificant.

For Yosef Hashimi, the lesson was that of appreciation. “I was negligent in never reaching out to Rabbi Kahanov and his wife to express my hakaras hatov,” he said, “but I am grateful that Hashem finally gave me the opportunity to express my thanks.”

He concluded, “When you are a shliach, you make a lot of sacrifices in life, and sometimes there are few opportunities to derive satisfaction from your efforts. I am glad that the Aibeshter gave me a chance to rectify this and give my thanks to the Shluchim who completely changed my life.”

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Dovid Zaklikowski is a biographer and storyteller. His latest book is “Story Bites: Short Stories to Savor.” His books are available on HasidicArchives.com, Amazon or at your local Judaica store. He could be reached at  [email protected]. This article was first published in the COLlive Magazine – Pesach 5781 Edition