National Scholar Updates

Peace, Religious Pluralism, and Tolerance: A View from Bahrain

By Nancy Khedouri

(Nancy Khedouri is a Member of the Shura (Consultative) Council (Foreign Affairs, Defense, and National Security Committee), Kingdom of Bahrain. She is an active member of the Jewish community in Bahrain. This article appears in issue 26 of Conversations, the journal of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals.)

New York was covered in a blanket of snow the Friday morning of March 4, 2016, when I arrived at the United Nations to participate in a Conference about Religious Tolerance and Pluralism and to share important facts about my precious homeland, The Kingdom of Bahrain. It was delightful to have met with many leading religious figures and to be enlightened by what each of them had to share.

In The Kingdom of Bahrain we are blessed to enjoy freedom of religion and freedom of worship. I personally prefer to use the words religious freedom, rather than religious tolerance, because when I participate at events whose titles carry with it the word tolerance, I anticipate that some will abuse that word. They will suggest that it represents a danger; they will suggest that it means “bearing or putting up with someone or something undesirable.”

Thankfully however, to most people, tolerance, has been redefined. We now understand it to mean “an attitude wherein all values, beliefs, lifestyles, claims to the message of truth, are treated respectfully.” Therefore, if taken within the context of this new definition of tolerance, i.e., if we are to promote a tolerance of all religious ways, beliefs, and doctrines and if we are to adopt a doctrine that will stop us from being “intolerant” of other people's beliefs, we improve life in this world for everyone. We want to adopt such a way of life because we know and believe that a) everyone has a right to his or her own opinion in any subject; b) each one of us is permitted to arrive at a definite conclusion or truth; and c) we are all entitled to our religious views.

Pursuing truth in this context of “tolerance,” means teaching our children to embrace all people, without necessarily following their beliefs. It means showing them how to listen to and learn from all people, without necessarily agreeing with them. It means helping them to courageously but humbly speaking the truth, with gentleness and respect, even if their honesty makes them the object of scorn or hatred. Being “tolerant” of each other and respectful toward one another, brings about a true community and culture in the midst of any diversity and disagreement.

At the March 4^th event at the United Nations in New York, much in the spirit of the typical Jewish Sephardic tradition where somehow everyone knows everyone, I met Rabbi Marc D. Angel, Founder and Director of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals. I also knew of the Sephardic community members residing in New York, some of whom were related to my paternal family members—it is indeed a small world!

Rabbi Angel asked me to share an article for this issue of Conversations. I am thankful for this opportunity. I am a great believer as to how the power of the pen can have a great impact on thousands of readers throughout the world.

            I would like to write about my favorite topic: Peace.

            This wonderful topic of “Peace,” “Salam,” and “Shalom,” has no end. The topic is vast and it extends into many aspects of life. It relates to inner peace, while at the same time to peace in family. It relates to local societies, while at the same time to international peace. It is so sought after, yet so seldom achieved. It has so many definitions, some that we are already tired of because we despair that we many never achieve them.

            But I wish to share with you another definition of Peace.

            I wish to share with you the promise that it is achievable.

            I want to give that hope that we can each achieve Peace.

            The definition that I wish to share with you is the very name of my Country, Bahrain.

             The Kingdom of Bahrain, has managed to maintain a tolerant and peaceful framework for life, with mutual respect for all its citizens, of whatever religious or ideological background.  

            For those of you who may not be aware, The Kingdom of Bahrain has for many generations warmly embraced and respected citizens of different religions. This is not a new phenomenon. For hundreds of years, every single individual in Bahrain has been treated equally without segregation or discrimination.

            Bearing in mind my spirit of the Jewish heritage of more than 3,800 years, I am a Bahraini of the Jewish faith, who graduated from a Roman Catholic Convent School, “Sacred Heart School,” and studied Islam, scoring 100 percent for recitation from The Holy Quran. I take delight in sharing what my class teacher used to tell my Muslim classmates when they failed at recitation, “Shame on You! The Jewish student has scored 100 percent, and you have failed?!” Now that I have you confused as to my “international” identity, it is proof enough that we are all members of the universal civilization, which we recognize in each other’s faces, regardless of our color, race, religion, or geographical belonging.

            I have always been and will continue to be very proud of my identity as a Bahraini, a Gulf National, and Arab. I am proud to be identified as an “Arab Jew.”

            I felt privileged to have been appointed by His Majesty to The Supreme Coordination Council, to supervise preparations for The Inter-Civilization Dialogue, “All Civilizations in the Service of Humanity,” which was under the gracious patronage of His Majesty during May 2014, aimed to promote dialogue among different civilizations and cultures, to help promote a civilized alliance that ensures a better future for all human beings to live in peace and security.

            This event witnessed the participation of the United Nations and a distinguished group of thinkers, scholars, and opinion leaders. It issued the “Bahrain Declaration,” which has been circulated as an official document of the United Nations.

            We all continue with a positive determination to heed His Majesty King Hamad’s call for peace, tolerance, and inter-civilization dialogue. As Bahrain has always set a leading example for religious tolerance and peaceful coexistence, where people of all faiths have lived side-by-side in family harmony, it made me feel very proud that my country was the platform to host such a landmark conference.

            Regardless of our religious differences, we are all children of Adam and Eve, brothers and sisters who are to respect each other and stop the fighting. There is no doubt that we all stand united against all those who terrorize the innocent and attack them. Acts of terrorism are aggressive attacks on human life, freedom, and dignity, a dangerous threat to all countries and people, anywhere in the world.

            This keynote speaker at The Inter-Civilization Dialogue shared that in his opinion, this bringing together of all civilizations was taking place in Bahrain because of God’s will, as it is said in the Torah that, the Almighty does not come to the biggest mountain but to the smallest, as history proves, “God came to one of the smallest mountains called Mount Sinai and delivered his message to Moses.”

            As this fact could not have been structured more beautifully in a sentence, I obtained permission from the guest speaker to quote exactly as per what was delivered the day of that event, when he further expressed that, “The Kingdom of Bahrain is the land of a wise Leader who has never changed toward his people and has always stayed humble, forgiving and rich in doing charities, thanks to his deeply embedded heritage. His Majesty is a forward-looking King who opened the gates to his country, while his citizens opened their hearts to us in line with their ancestors, illustrated in the personality of their late father, His Highness Amir Shaikh Isa Bin Salman Al Khalifa, God bless his soul.”

            For those of you who have never had an opportunity to visit my country, I am proud to share with you that Bahrain is known for its uniqueness. It is a peaceful country that practices true Islamic values and principles, according to “Sharia,” where there exists respect for the Rule of Law, and where peaceful coexistence and religious tolerance prevail.

            The People of Bahrain have always been broadminded for many generations and continue to respect each other, regardless of religious or cultural differences. Citizens of Bahrain, whether Muslim, Christian, Hindu, Bahai, Buddhist, Sikh, or Jewish, continue to live amicably and remain a “United Family,” joined together by trust, respect, love, and genuine feelings of brotherhood. They all integrate well into the fabric of society. A Unity Quilt is displayed at Isa Cultural Centre for all to visit.

            There is no discrimination in employment within any sectors; applications for employment, promotion, training, or loans do not stipulate that the candidates reveal their religion or sect. This has been possible due to the strength of our leadership and the stability of the Al Khalifa ruling family.

            There has never been any segregation due to religious differences. The belief in freedom, in reform, in human rights and in the rule of law, are part of the core values of Bahrain.

            In Judaism, one of the most beautiful topics to describe is Peace.

            During the Six Days of Creation, God made many of the same group. He made lots of stars, many rivers, numerous lakes, various seas, and so on. When it came to plant-life, He made lots of varieties, and in those varieties He made many beings of the same variety. Even later on, when it came to living creatures, the fish and then the birds and the animals, He made many different kinds of living beings and in each of those species He made many.

            When it came to making humans, God created only one being (Adam and Eve were conjoined).

            Have you ever wondered why? 

            God knew that Man was the only Creature in existence that had the potential of being quarrelsome (or worse). This was so because Man was the only creature that was to be endowed with absolutely independent intelligence. Although intelligence is so truly wonderful, it can also be the seat of conflict. So, God gave us all a familial connection, because when we acknowledge that we all really one, we come from one Adam and one Eve, we should be able to rise above that which separates us and accept that we are all one family.

            Furthermore, when after the flood, Noah left the Ark, God gave him the Seven Universal Laws for Humankind. These laws contained six prohibitions (murder, idolatry, adultery, eating flesh removed from a living being, blasphemy, and stealing) and one instruction. This law commanded that every civilization should have a code of laws by which its inhabitants can be governed to live together in harmony. Effectively, this law would be one that obligates us to create an environment in which peace can flourish.

            So, just imagine if Adam and Eve awaken from their deep sleep in their burial place in the Cave of Machpelah, and start touring the world to see what their offspring have done. Sure, they would be well surprised with all the technological advances that we enjoy. Then they have a look at their children and become horrified; “Children, Children!” they would exclaim. “What are you doing? Why are you fighting one another?”

            In all religions, the gift of life is so important and must be honored, and whoever saves the life of one, it shall be as if he had saved the life of a whole world.

            About 2,000 years ago, there lived a Sage by the name of Hillel. He had a motto: “Be of the disciples of the High Priest, Aharon; he loved peace, he pursued peace, He loved all creatures, and He drew them close to the Torah.” A non-Jewish person once approached Hillel with a strange request. “Convert me to Judaism while I stand on one foot!” Hillel answered, “That which you despise do not do to others.” Hillel added: “That is the entirety of the Torah, the rest is its commentary. Now go and study.”

            With Bahrain enjoying freedom of the press, I authored a book entitled From Our Beginning to Present Day, about the history of the Jewish people of Bahrain. Words cannot express my gratitude toward the motivation, information, and photos I received from members of the Muslim and Christian communities, alongside my own, which enabled the book to be appreciated and valued as an important historical document.

            We live in a world that is becoming more connected all the time. We have unparalleled opportunities to experience different cultures and get to know people of all kinds. I once read that “variety is spice for the life of the soul.” One is able to cultivate deeper appreciation by seeking to understand another’s spice, and by paying attention to the qualities of each variety.

            During November 2008, I was privileged to join the Official Delegation of His Majesty and attended the Inter-Faith Conference at the United Nations in New York. The importance of interfaith dialogue was discussed, and personally, I felt Bahrain had so many important lessons and examples to show the world. Bahrain has set an example of showing tolerance toward religious communities and promoting peaceful coexistence, freedom, and understanding. It is the only Gulf country to have a synagogue, which has been established since the 1930s.

            His Majesty was so kind to enquire about the well-being of all the Bahraini Jewish people who decided to leave of their own free-will after 1948 and during the 1960s. One meeting took place in London and another in New York during 2008. Words cannot express how touched they were by His Majesty’s humbleness and warmth.

            In Bahrain, there also exist Hindu Temples and Sikh Temples. Sikhism has been practiced for over half a century on the island, and Hinduism has been practiced for over 150 years. From the words of Mr. Shastri VijayKumar Mukhiya, head of the Hindu community, I quote, “We have complete cooperation from the Government of Bahrain and from the local community and are allowed to celebrate our festivals without any difficulty.”

            In Bahrain, there also exist a large number of registered Christian churches and congregations. The largest Christian community is the Sacred Heart Catholic Church, headed by the Apostolic Vicariate of Arabia. Furthermore, just to name a few of our churches, the Anglican Church is over half a century old while the National Evangelical Church dates back to the end of the nineteenth century, when medical missionaries from the Reformed Church of America came to Bahrain. Their legacy remains in both the Church and the American Mission Hospital, located in the same compound.

            From the words of Rev. Hani Aziz, Chairman of the National Evangelical Church (NEC), Pastor for the Arab-Christian Congregation of the NEC and Founder of The Bahrain National Council for Tolerance and Coexistence, I quote, “We experience no restrictions. Bahrainis are open-minded and respect everyone’s opinions, interested to understand about various religions while maintaining their own faith. When we visited H.R.H. Prince Khalifa Bin Salman Al-Khalifa, the Prime Minister of Bahrain, all Governors and the Minister of Social Development, we were welcomed and supported. In fact, we were encouraged to establish the existing Council into a Society, as that would be one of the first in the Arab world. Recently, we had a festival entitled, “Pray for Bahrain” in which many participated and the prayers were in over 30 languages.”

            When His Majesty King Hamad met Pope Benedict XVI at The Vatican in July 2008, he also had the opportunity to meet with Archbishop Dominique Mamberti, Secretary for Relations with States, and The Vatican praised Bahrain’s tolerance. Its information services reported the following: “In the course of the discussions, which took place in a cordial atmosphere, the Vatican authorities had the opportunity to thank the King for the welcome he has shown to many Christian immigrants in the Kingdom of Bahrain.”

            His Majesty described his visit as a continuation of the dialogue initiated a few years ago with the late Pope John Paul II, and I quote, “We stressed the importance of promoting bilateral co-operation and building bridges of tolerance, moderation and peace.” His Majesty also highlighted the crucial role of the Vatican in advocating peace, openness between religions and civilization saying, “Such lofty values would only preserve international security and stability and enable all nations to live in a peace-loving world.” A visit to Bahrain by the Pope was warmly welcomed.

            Bahrain remains a country in which people can succeed in establishing themselves, regardless of religious differences. Because of the constant influx of various nationalities, which shapes its identity, the example it gives to the world is that coexistence can occur successfully, because it has done, and always will, continue to exist in Bahrain.

            One of many examples that shows the importance His Majesty gives to religious tolerance can be seen on a National Monument erected in Bahrain, known as the National Charter Monument (NCM), in section of Multi-faith Religious Photography – Islam and Tolerance. The Kingdom, under the directives of His Majesty, has been able to overcome all obstacles that shook the Middle East, by maintaining its “One-Family” philosophy, which has bolstered solidarity, stability and security, and we all pledge our continued and undivided loyalty to Bahrain.

            In 2001, a National Referendum had 98.4 percent of the nation vote in favor of our Constitution, in which the system of government was declared a Constitutional Hereditary Monarchy, with Sovereign being given title of “King.” Bahrain, which was formerly known as “State of Bahrain,” was then officially declared as “Kingdom of Bahrain.”

            My country had its parliamentary system restored after a gap of 27 years. Previously, it was a unicameral system. However, it was deemed best for Bahrain to enjoy a bicameral system of parliament, one chamber being appointed by His Majesty and the other chamber by direct free elections. This would enable all citizens of various faiths to enjoy equal participation.

            It was indeed a great privilege to have been appointed by His Majesty King Hamad Bin Isa Al Khalifa, during 2010 and re-appointed during 2014, to The Shura (Consultative) Council, to serve as a law-maker, together with my Muslim and non-Muslim colleagues, passing Bills (Draft Laws), for the benefit of our country and the Bahraini citizens, regardless of our religious differences. We all enjoy immunity and can debate about any subject-matter freely.

            What happened in my country during 2011 was that a peaceful call for reform was hijacked by political extremists. Many who were unaware of the “essence” of my country, started misrepresenting facts. What happened in other brotherly countries was very different to what was occurring in Bahrain. Sadly, it has taken a few years for the truth to be finally understood; yet, one continues to come across articles that tend to repeat incorrect notions. When 18 of our colleagues from the Elected Chamber decided to resign during 2011, it was sad because they let down their constituencies, who needed their presence in parliament to debate about important subject matters, propose Draft Laws for the benefit of our country and for the nation.

            A secret to Bahrain’s uniqueness lies in its “National Unity.” There is no doubt that during the temporary period of disruption that occurred in the Kingdom during 2011, the binding chord that kept Bahraini citizens as a united family may have loosened slightly but by God’s grace and because of the wise directives of our leadership, this cord was not severed. In fact, the tie of National Unity started pulling everyone closer together in a stronger way as soon as they began to realize what they had taken for granted all these years. That was the blessing of national peace and security, which our country has always offered and the profit of a peaceful coexistence that always prevailed among its citizens, regardless of religious differences.

            Furthermore, the call for National Unity to show support for a national dialogue attracted a crowd of over 350,000 people from all the religious groups. It was the strength of our nation that helped unravel the truth to the world, when opposition tried to unfairly tarnish Bahrain’s shining image. Note that the word, opposition, does not seem the most suitable word to use because two or more individuals could disagree on a subject and this is classified as a healthy way of coexisting. However, when individuals incite hatred and sow seeds of sectarian division and aim to overthrow the existing System of Government, they can only be described as “destroyers.”

            Then, there was and still seems to be huge fuss made about human rights violations, but please beware of those who try to twist perception by the fabrication of lies, to unfairly condemn a country and inhibit its path toward reform, to try to make it lose the respect that it has gained globally through its strong diplomatic relations. Bahrain should instead be known for its continuous positive pace toward further reform, for the benefit of its entire nation.

            The great courage of His Majesty inviting an Independent Commission of Inquiry to investigate into the 2011 happenings, was applauded. If mistakes were made, they were solely on an individual level and were punishable by law, as no one can interfere with the independence of the judiciary. As we all know, it is always important to obtain both sides of any story before rushing into believing what might be the fabrication, and thus be unfair towards the actual truth. With this in mind, it was rather unfortunate that respected foreign media were so quick to jump to their preferred, sensationalized version of the events in Bahrain, misrepresenting many of the facts about what actually took place; but once the actual truth was known, they still made no effort to correct misrepresented facts.

            Furthermore, another word used by media was regime. Bahrain is not a regime, but rather, is a kingdom with humble and humane leadership who are close to their people.

            The Universal Declaration of Human Rights states that, “All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights.” One is filled with great pride to say that under Articles 18 and 22 of rhe Constitution of The Kingdom of Bahrain, it is clearly stipulated that “People are equal in human dignity and citizens shall be equal in public rights and duties before the law, without discrimination as to race, origin, language, religion, or belief” and that,“Freedom of conscience is absolute. The State shall guarantee the inviolability of places of worship and the freedom to perform religious rites and to hold religious processions and meetings in accordance with the customs observed in the country.”

            I take the opportunity to quote from the wise words of H. E. Dominique Villepin, former President of France at The Bahrain Strategic Conference during October 2013: “The domestic situation has changed. It’s no more a conflict between persons, opinions, ideologies. It’s a question of identities, which is always the most dangerous kind of war, because it knows no limits and no rules and because the only outcome is radicalization and hate. Today, terror is the rule…. The truth of today’s crisis in the Middle East is that it is a political crisis, and a political crisis needs a political response. We need to have a broader look at the events in the Middle East to understand what is happening. It is a forty-year war that is, I hope, drawing to an end. The first conflict is between secularization and Islamism has been raging since the Iranian Revolution in 1979.” He also expressed that the “…. conflict between Shi’a and Sunni Muslims has also come out of control with the Iranian Revolution in 1979 and then with the Iraq war in 2003.”

            The torrent of change that flooded large parts of the Middle East caused unjust reporting about Bahrain in the media, whose internal issue was totally different from other brotherly countries in the region. Kindly be reminded that human rights, religious freedom, peaceful coexistence, and diversity are positive cultural values attached to the Kingdom of Bahrain, which has always set the leading example by extending religious freedom to people of all denominations, respecting their right to exist without any discrimination.

            One of the most urgent issues that needs to be addressed globally today, is the fostering of understanding between people of different faiths. Those who can develop such an understanding, tend to contribute towards the harmonious progress of our world.  Bahrain sets an example for mutual respect and understanding among its citizens. For your further information, Bahrain is probably one of very few countries in which Muslim, Christian, and Jewish cemeteries are next to each other.

            Everyone is given a fair chance to play a role in the political life of Bahrain. For example, the Manama Municipal Council had Jewish members in the 1930s, and during recent years we have seen Muslims, Christians, Jews, and Bahais play an active role in the Bahrain Human Rights Watch Society (BHRWS). We have even had a Bahraini female of the Jewish faith, serving Bahrain’s Ambassador to The United States of America, to loyally serve our Kingdom in a diplomatic role there.  

            In conclusion, Bahrain is a very friendly and hospitable country and everyone who visits is really lost for words to describe their experience.

            We all strongly believe that human rights are universal and apply to all people, of every religion, ethnicity or culture, in all places and at all times, so we should also have not a shred of doubt that Bahrain is at the fore-front in making this come true. For we are the people who live on its shores and who practice its ideology day after day.

            I personally invite you all to visit Bahrain and witness for yourselves

“The Island of a Million Palm trees,” that is dedicated to embracing all religions, setting a shining example of reverence for our fellow islanders’ choice of faith, and continued tranquility in our lives alongside each other.

            The Talmud concludes with a lesson taught by Rabbi Yehoshua, son of Levi: The Almighty did not find a suitable receptacle to contain the blessing for Jewish people other than Peace, as the verse says (Psalms 29:11): “The Almighty gives His people strength, the Almighty will bless His people with Peace.” So, the closing word of the Talmud is SHALOM.

            We pray for Shalom for our leadership and our country. We pray for the peace of all good people everywhere. We pray for peace among all humankind.

Rabbi Hayyim Angel

To our members and friends,

I hope you have enjoyed a good summer. We look forward to another full year of classes and programs through the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals. Here is a brief summary of September offerings, as well as an overview of the upcoming co-sponsored classes of the Institute and Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun, where I serve as Rabbinic Scholar.

I will give a three-part series on the Torah and Haftarah readings of Rosh HaShanah at Lamdeinu Teaneck: An in-depth study of Genesis 21-22 (Abraham and Isaac), I Samuel chapter 1 (Hannah and Samuel), and Jeremiah’s prophecy of consolation in chapter 31.

Three Wednesdays: September 14, 21, 28, 12:00-1:15 pm, at Congregation Beth Aaron, 950 Queen Anne Road, Teaneck, New Jersey. To register, please go to lamdeinu.org.

On September 23-24, I will be the Shabbat scholar-in-residence at the Beth Avraham Yoseph of Toronto, 613 Clark Ave W, Thornhill, Ontario, Canada. For more information, please go to http://www.bayt.ca/.

Throughout the holiday season and the year, I will be speaking at the Sephardic Minyan at Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun (125 East 85th Street, between Park and Lexington Avenue in Manhattan). It is a warm, welcoming, vibrant community. Aside from Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur, when holiday tickets are required (please contact the synagogue office at 212-774-5600 for details), everyone always is invited to attend.

After the holiday season, I will resume our classes co-sponsored by the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals and Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun. Classes are free and open to the public.

Navigating Through Nach: A Survey of the Prophets

Although Tanakh lies at the heart of the vision of Judaism and has influenced billions of people worldwide, many often lack access to these eternal works. The best of traditional and contemporary scholarship will be employed as we study the central themes of each book. This year we will study the Twelve Prophets and the books of the Writings (Ketuvim). The course is taught at a high scholarly level but is accessible to people of all levels of Jewish learning. Newcomers always welcome. Free and open to the public.

Wednesdays from 7:00-8:00pm, at Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun, 125 East 85th Street (between Park and Lexington Avenue) in Manhattan.

Fall session (Twelve Prophets, Psalms) November 2, 9, 16, 30; December 7, 14, 21
Winter session (Psalms, Proverbs, Job, Five Megillot) Feb 1, 8, 15, 22; March 1, 8, 15, 22
Spring session (Daniel, Ezra-Nehemiah, Chronicles) April 26; May 3, 10, 17

If you would like to hear the twenty classes I gave last year in this survey course, they are available at our Online Learning section of our website: https://www.jewishideas.org//online-learning

I also will teach the three-part History at Home series at Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun:
Great Biblical Scandals

November 12: The Dinah Narrative: Moral Ambiguities in a Dreadful Story
December 17: King David and Bat Sheva: An Affair to Remember
January 14: King Ahab: Did He Do Something Right?

Co-sponsored by the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals and Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun.
Saturday nights from 8:30-9:30pm, at Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun,
125 East 85th Street (between Park and Lexington Avenue) in Manhattan.

I look forward to resuming our learning together, and stay tuned for updates!

I am grateful to the members and supporters of the Institute for making all of our programs, publications, and classes a priority in the development of American Jewish religious and communal life. Thank you,

Rabbi Hayyim Angel
National Scholar

Gloria J. Ascher is Associate Professor of German, Scandinavian and Judaic Studies, and Co-Director of Judaic Studies, at Tufts University.

Shalach Manot, His Hundred Years: A Tale
A Sephardic Review

This is no ordinary book. It is a unique contemporary Sephardic novel that is best honored and illuminated by a Sephardic review. So instead of the usual essay with smooth transitions and a predictable progression, here are five (lucky number!) notes that focus on distinctive aspects of the book and their implications.

1. The shiny, hazy gold-bronze-rose-toned cover with its Turkish Jewish image, adapted from an 18th-century Torah ark cover from Istanbul, evokes a faraway fantasy world, which, indeed, bursts into life in the opening pages when we are transported to “Canakkale, 1911.” That world is, as we discover, not so far away--in time--after all. The paperback cover is strong and substantial, but pliable – like the main character of the novel it introduces. The combination of fairy-tale allure and Jewish tradition, of flexibility and tenacity, even stubbornness, is a thread that runs through and binds together the main character and other Sephardim (“Turkish Jews”) we meet.

2. The Tale is told in twenty-eight unnumbered episodes, each identified by location and year, with a break before the last four indicated in the list of Contents. The first is the earliest and the last the most recent, but the rest of the episodes jump back and forth in time and place, with no apparent order. There are multiple tales in the same location and year, some presented consecutively, but two near opposite ends of the narrative. Some episodes take place at the same location in different years, and vice versa. Defying the limitations of narration in words, so convincingly delineated by the 18th - century German writer Gotthold Ephraim Lessing in his Laokoon, Shalach Manot forces us to recognize that the order and meaning of the years of a life are not ultimately determined by chronology.

3. Like the years of a life, the episodes in this Tale are bound together by connections, relationships, associations, and correspondences. For example, the “explosion” heard by the main character as a schoolboy that signals war, remembered by the now retired man on a flight to London, is echoed in the episode that follows, sixteen years later in New York, by the “explosion” in his head as a result of anesthesia before surgery. Both explosions are recalled and recounted, the first to an African-American boy, the second to a lawyer. These encounters prove unexpectedly but typically meaningful, for this man, in all stages of his life, has the gift of relating openly to other people, of whatever age or cultural background. His openness and empathy extend to other creatures as well, like the donkey he buys as a boy in Turkey. He is, in Ladino, ben adam, a real, regular human being in the best sense (from the Hebrew for “son of man,” used often by the Biblical prophet Ezekiel).

4. This novel is replete with Jewish and particularly Sephardic references, elements, and, above all, values, like openness, commitment to family, and personal dignity. Encouraged as a boy in Turkey by the success story of the Biblical Joseph, the main character identifies throughout as a Jew, attending synagogue services, teaching an African-American boy about the expulsion of the Jews from Spain and their new life in Turkey, finding meaning and self-worth as an old man upon touching the Torah scroll on Simchat Torah – even if he does sell his first insurance policy on Saturday, Shabbat. He sings the Marseillaise at crucial times, reflecting the French influence on Turkish Jews. Perhaps most memorable are the songs, proverbs, and names of foods in Ladino, which are not merely colorful expressions of a culture that spice up the text, but can become crucial vehicles of meaning, for characters and readers alike.

5. Sien anyos en kadena es mas mijor de una ora debasho de la tierra. A hundred years in chains is better than one hour beneath the earth. Though this Ladino proverb does not appear in the novel, it expresses the essential meaning of His Hundred Years: the value of life. The main character continues to delight in life, to find joy and strength and resourcefulness, to go forward to greater successes, taking pride in discovering new talents even as an old man. Beset by the chains of hunger and war, disappointment and loss, family fireworks and the accoutrements of old age, still he rises above them and persists, relishing hard-won moments of triumph. After his death he continues to impart this delight in life to an unlikely family member, and his one business failure is, in a way, reversed through a corresponding potential success, again involving family. He thus lives on, way beyond His Hundred Years!

These notes, as befits a Sephardic review, are far from exhaustive. Five of the many more aspects worthy of consideration:

1. the implications of the fact that the main character is never identified by name, but by what he is and what he does, as “the salesman,” for example (essence and substance rather than arbitrary label)
2. the sensitive and gripping portraits of diverse Turkish Jewish women caught in a patriarchal system
3. the Sephardic immigrant experience in the U.S.
4. the meanings of the subtitle: “tale” with mythical import, “tale” as folk tale, kuento
5. the short but thoughtful and useful Glossary

This Sephardic novel by Shalach Manot is, indeed, no ordinary book, but a gift for all seasons that entices you to join the adventure – and come up with your own list of notes, whether the number is 5 or 9 or 13! Mazal bueno, good luck, and enjoy!

Rabbi Hayyim Angel, National Scholar of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals, teaches Tanakh at Yeshiva University and serves as Rabbinic Scholar at Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun. This article originally appeared in Jewish Bible Quarterly 40:1 (2012), pp. 41-51; reprinted in H. Angel, Peshat Isn’t So Simple: Essays on Developing a Religious Methodology to Bible Study (New York: Kodesh Press, 2014), pp. 254-267.
When Love and Politics Mix:

David and His Relationships with
Saul, Jonathan, and Michal [1]

Introduction

Few biblical narratives are so richly intricate as those in the Book of Samuel. Throughout these episodes, love and politics mix. While David and Saul and his family were human beings with personal feelings, they also were involved in a complex and oftentimes painful saga of royal succession and competition. They also had to maintain public images.

The prophetic narrator regularly reveals the feelings of Saul and his children toward David. At the same time, David’s feelings toward Saul and his children are concealed. [2] For that matter, the passionate David is never explicitly said to have loved anyone in the Book of Samuel! A number of contemporary scholars have exploited this and related textual evidence to describe the emotional imbalance in these relationships.

However, Susan Ackerman has observed that in most biblical relationships involving the term ahavah (love), only one of the parties is explicitly said to love (the Song of Songs is a notable exception). Generally, husbands are said to love their wives without explicit mention that the wives love the husbands. Parents are said to love their children without explicit mention that their children love them.

For example, Isaac is said to have loved Rebecca (Gen. 24:67), Jacob loved Rachel (Gen. 29:18), Samson
loved Delilah (Jud. 16:4), and Elkanah loved Hannah (1 Sam. 1:5). Rebecca is said to have loved Jacob while Isaac loved Esau (Gen. 25:28), and Jacob loved Joseph (Gen. 37:3-4) and Benjamin (Gen. 44:20).
Ackerman maintains that generally the more dominant party is said to love, even though the loving relationship may well be reciprocal. [3] Therefore, the omission of references to David’s loving Saul, Jonathan, or Michal does not necessarily indicate any lack of love from David toward these characters. In fact, it would have been surprising had there been explicit reference to David’s love!

These ambiguities become more pronounced when considering that the verb a-h-v (love) is used biblically both for affectionate interpersonal love and also for political alliances such as that between David and Hiram of Tyre (1 Kings 5:15). [4] To some degree, then, the ambiguity is due to the limited lexicon of Biblical Hebrew, where one word may serve multiple functions.

The Sages of the Talmud and medieval rabbinic commentators such as Ralbag and Abarbanel also were fully conscious of the public political roles of the protagonists. Contemporary scholars often have followed suit, ascertaining textual clues or simply speculating that the text may not depict the full range of the characters’ emotions toward one another. This article will consider the relationships between Saul’s family and David and how their different motivations are presented in the Book of Samuel. In most instances, it is exceptionally difficult to draw the line between where love stops and politics starts.

David and Saul

After Samuel anointed David as a replacement for Saul, Saul became afflicted by an evil spirit (1 Sam. 16:14). One of the king’s officials recommended David as one who could play the lyre and thereby soothe the troubled monarch. David was immediately successful: “So David came to Saul and entered his service; [Saul] took a strong liking to him [va-ye’ehavehu me’od] and made him one of his arms-bearers” (1 Sam. 16:21). The imbalance of the depiction of the respective feelings of Saul and David toward one another harks back to this, their first encounter. [5]

However, this does not mean that David had no positive feelings toward Saul. Perhaps the greatest expression of David’s feelings can be found in 1 Samuel 24, when David had the opportunity to kill Saul but instead cut off the corner of his robe to indicate that he had the ability to assassinate the monarch:

And David said to Saul, “Why do you listen to the people who say, ‘David is out to do you harm?’ You can see for yourself now that the Lord delivered you into my hands in the cave today. And though I was urged to kill you, I showed you pity; for I said, ‘I will not raise a hand against my lord, since he is the Lord’s anointed.’ Please, sir, take a close look at the corner of your cloak in my hand; for when I cut off the corner of your cloak, I did not kill you. You must see plainly that I have done nothing evil or rebellious, and I have never wronged you. Yet you are bent on taking my life. May the Lord judge between you and me! And may He take vengeance upon you for me, but my hand will never touch you. As the ancient proverb has it: ‘Wicked deeds come from wicked men!’ My hand will never touch you. Against whom has the king of Israel come out? Whom are you pursuing? A dead dog? A single flea? May the Lord be arbiter and may He judge between you and me! May He take note and uphold my cause, and vindicate me against you” (1 Sam. 24:10-16).

David expressed conflicted emotions of loyalty to Saul as God’s anointed, coupled with a desire for God to judge Saul harshly for his unjust actions.

Ralbag and Abarbanel suggest an additional reason why David did not kill Saul. Since David knew that he would become the next king, he wanted to send the unequivocal message that assassination of any monarch is unacceptable. These interpreters repeat this argument when explaining David’s killing of the Amalekite youth (2 Sam. 1:14-16) and Ish-bosheth’s assassins (2 Sam. 4:9-12). From this vantage point, David offered a calculated address and not exclusively spontaneous heartfelt thoughts. [6]

Responding to David’s address, Saul cried and poignantly referred to David as his “son”:

When David finished saying these things to Saul, Saul said, “Is that your voice, my son David?” And Saul broke down and wept. He said to David, “You are right, not I; for you have treated me generously, but I have treated you badly” (1 Sam. 24:17-18).

It appears that Saul loved David but also envied him to the point where he lost all balance. David also appears to have loved Saul but also cautiously protected his own future position as monarch. Because of this latter consideration, it is difficult to know whether to interpret David’s words as a sincere expression of his love for Saul, as rhetoric, or as some combination of genuine affection and political considerations.

David and Jonathan

After David killed Goliath, Jonathan became enamored of David and made a pact with him:

When [David] finished speaking with Saul, Jonathan’s soul became bound up with the soul of David; Jonathan loved David as himself…. Jonathan and David made a pact, because [Jonathan] loved him as himself. Jonathan took off the cloak and tunic he was wearing and gave them to David, together with his sword, bow, and belt (1 Sam. 18:1-4).

Whatever the reasoning behind Jonathan’s reluctance to fight Goliath, he graciously ceded his right to the throne to David as a result of David’s superior heroism. [7] That Jonathan is said to have loved David “as himself” attests to his remarkable feelings toward David.

Throughout the narrative, Jonathan reiterated his commitment to David’s well-being:

Jonathan told David, “My father Saul is bent on killing you. Be on your guard tomorrow morning; get to a secret place and remain in hiding. I will go out and stand next to my father in the field where you will be, and I will speak to my father about you. If I learn anything, I will tell you” (1 Sam. 19:2-3).

David fled from Naioth in Ramah; he came to Jonathan and said, “What have I done, what is my crime and my guilt against your father, that he seeks my life?” He replied, “Heaven forbid! You shall not die. My father does not do anything, great or small, without disclosing it to me; why should my father conceal this matter from me? It cannot be!” David swore further, “Your father knows well that you are fond of me and has decided: ‘Jonathan must not learn of this or he will be grieved.’ But, as the Lord lives and as you live, there is only a step between me and death.” Jonathan said to David, “Whatever you want, I will do it for you” (1 Sam. 20:1-4).

In the first instance, there is no recorded response by David. The second dialogue reports David’s first words to Jonathan in the text, and they hardly sound personal. David could have said these words to anyone. [8]

After Jonathan confronted Saul at a public meal and subsequently told David that he must flee, the scene ends with a touching encounter:

David emerged from his concealment at the Negev. He flung himself face down on the ground and bowed low three times. They kissed each other and wept together; David wept the longer (1 Sam. 20:41).

Although they kissed and David cried longer than Jonathan, this scene does not necessarily indicate David’s affectionate feelings toward Jonathan. He could have been distressed over becoming a fugitive from the king (cf. Ralbag). At the same time, however, this emotionally charged scene could indicate a profound mutual love as well.

Perhaps the most dramatic textual expression of David’s feelings toward Jonathan, and to some degree Saul, is found in his eulogy after they were killed in battle:

And David intoned this dirge over Saul and his son Jonathan—He ordered the Judahites to be taught [The Song of the] Bow. It is recorded in the Book of Jashar. “Your glory, O Israel, lies slain on your heights; how have the mighty fallen…. Saul and Jonathan, beloved and cherished, never parted in life or in death! They were swifter than eagles, they were stronger than lions…. I grieve for you, my brother Jonathan, you were most dear to me. Your love was wonderful to me more than the love of women. How have the mighty fallen, the weapons of war perished!” (2 Sam. 1:17-27).

Most of the lamentation is a heroes’ eulogy. However, verse 26 reflects the strong feelings David harbored toward Jonathan. Only after Jonathan’s death does David unambiguously express his positive emotions toward Jonathan.

Despite the seemingly heartfelt outpouring of David’s emotions, however, Robert Alter maintains that David’s public recital of this eulogy also served his political aim of proclaiming that David did not wish for Saul’s death. [9] Tod Linafelt suggests further that the eulogy reflects David’s positive personal feelings toward Saul and Jonathan but simultaneously is a carefully crafted rhetorical piece that reflects Saul and Jonathan as failures as military men and as national leaders. [10] These interpretations are reminders of the various elements likely to have affected all of David’s relationships.

One Mishnah idealizes the love between David and Jonathan as the quintessential friendship:

All love that depends on a [transient] thing, [when the] thing ceases, [the] love ceases; and [all love] that depends not on a [transient] thing, ceases not forever. Which is the [kind of] love that depends on a [transient] thing? Such as was the love of Amnon for Tamar; and [which is the kind of love] that depends not on a [transient] thing? Such as was the love of David and Jonathan (Avot 5:16).

Rabbi Jonah of Gerona comments that the Mishnah idealizes Jonathan’s love of David since Jonathan stood to lose directly by abdicating his right to the throne. Therefore, his love for David must have been pure. Of course, this interpretation does not account for David’s love for Jonathan. One easily can identify more utilitarian (though hardly negative) reasons why David would pursue a relationship with Jonathan. Jonathan protected David against Saul and also ceded his rights to the throne.

However, one also can identify less altruistic (though again hardly negative) motivations for Jonathan’s love toward David as well. During their last recorded encounter, Jonathan voiced his expectation that he would be second in command once David became king: “He said to him, ‘Do not be afraid: the hand of my father Saul will never touch you. You are going to be king over Israel and I shall be second to you; and even my father Saul knows this is so’” (1 Sam. 23:17).

There is nothing negative about Jonathan’s aspiration, but he evidently expected reciprocity for his graciousness. Consequently, one talmudic passage debates the extent of altruism underlying Jonathan’s covenant with David:

Rabbi [Rabbi Judah the Prince] … said, three were humble… Jonathan, the son of Saul, for he said to David, “You are going to be king over Israel and I shall be second to you” (1 Sam. 23:17). But how does this prove it? Perhaps Jonathan the son of Saul [spoke thus] because he saw that the people were flocking to David! (Bava Metzia 84b-85a).

According to Rabbi’s reading, Jonathan was gracious in ceding his right to the throne. According to the objection, however, Jonathan simply was acting prudently, correctly reading the writing on the wall that David would become king. This talmudic debate captures both sides of the complex relationship between David and Jonathan.

On a more ominous level, Jonathan was concerned that David would exterminate his family. [11] Jonathan reiterated their pact at every possible opportunity (see 1 Sam. 18:3; 20:14-16, 23; 42; 23:18). Perhaps the most striking is Jonathan’s reference to the pact juxtaposed to another mention that Jonathan loved David as himself:

“Nor shall you fail to show me the Lord’s faithfulness, while I am alive; nor, when I am dead, shall you ever discontinue your faithfulness to my house—not even after the Lord has wiped out every one of David’s enemies from the face of the earth. Thus has Jonathan covenanted with the house of David; and may the Lord requite the enemies of David!” Jonathan, out of his love for David, adjured him again, for he loved him as himself (1 Sam. 20:14-17).

John A. Thompson interprets this juxtaposition to mean that even this lofty expression of Jonathan’s loving David as himself combines interpersonal affection and the aspect of covenantal alliance. [12] Alternatively, Abarbanel (on 20:17), Malbim (on 18:3; 20:17) and Shimon Bar-Efrat argue that the reference to Jonathan loving David as himself indicates that Jonathan was not motivated by personal gain and self-protection even in the context of such a prudent covenant. [13] Following Moshe Z. Segal, Yehudah Kiel advances this argument even further, suggesting that David responded with silence since he loved Jonathan so dearly that he refused to acknowledge that he and not Jonathan would rule. [14]

At any rate, Jonathan’s pact with David proved effective. After Jonathan’s death, David cared for Jonathan’s son Mephibosheth: David inquired, “Is there anyone still left of the House of Saul with whom I can keep faith for the sake of Jonathan?” (2 Sam. 9:1). When David killed seven of Saul’s descendants to appease the Gibeonites, he spared Mephibosheth because of this oath: “The king spared Mephibosheth son of Jonathan son of Saul, because of the oath before the Lord between the two, between David and Jonathan son of Saul” (2 Sam. 21:7).

To summarize, although Rabbi Jonah of Gerona certainly is correct that Jonathan was an exemplar of graciousness by foregoing his right to the throne, the textual evidence indicates that Jonathan stood to gain as well. He expected to be second in command and also protected his progeny through his pact with David. [15]

David and Michal

Now Michal daughter of Saul had fallen in love with David; and when this was reported to Saul, he was pleased (1 Sam. 18:20).

Following David’s meteoric rise to national fame, Saul’s daughter Michal loved David. This is the only reference in the entire Bible to a woman said to love her man. Although no doubt Michal was attracted to marrying a hero, there appears to be genuine affection in her reaction, as well. When Saul sent his troops to capture David, Michal heroically put herself at risk by siding with David over her father (1 Sam. 19:10-17). [16] Once again, we never hear how David felt about Michal. Perhaps their love was reciprocal, but perhaps David viewed her primarily as another means of gaining legitimacy to the throne.

Rabbi Amnon Bazak assumes from the lack of mention of David’s love that David was more interested in marrying Saul’s daughter as part of his monarchial aspirations (see 1 Sam. 17:25; 18:23, 26). [17] However, Bazak’s assumption is not compelling. As noted at the outset of this essay, in most biblical relationships involving the term ahavah (love), only one of the parties is explicitly said to love. Following her thesis that the more dominant party is said to love, Susan Ackerman suggests that Michal was the more powerful party at the outset of the narrative. David depended on his marriage to Michal to advance his monarchial ambitions. [18]

At any rate, we still cannot ascertain if David really did not love Michal at all. Bazak argues more convincingly that the ongoing emphasis on Michal’s being Saul’s daughter may suggest that this aspect was paramount to David. David wanted Michal back when Abner expressed a desire to reconcile the two kingdoms:

He replied, “Good; I will make a pact with you. But I make one demand upon you: Do not appear before me unless you bring Michal daughter of Saul when you come before me.” David also sent messengers to Ish-bosheth son of Saul, to say, “Give me my wife Michal, for whom I paid the bride-price of one hundred Philistine foreskins” (2 Sam. 3:13-14).

When speaking to Abner, David stressed Michal’s being the “daughter of Saul” in order to legitimize the political unification of the north and south. When addressing Ish-bosheth, David referred to “my wife Michal,” since he wanted to emphasize his legal marriage to Michal so that Ish-bosheth would be responsive. [19]

In the final encounter between David and Michal, Michal again is three times referred to as Saul’s daughter. Aside from the surface debate over the dignity of the monarchy, Bazak interprets Michal’s outburst as an expression of her deep anguish at being unloved despite her love for David:

As the Ark of the Lord entered the City of David, Michal daughter of Saul looked out of the window and saw King David leaping and whirling before the Lord; and she despised him for it…. David went home to greet his household. And Michal daughter of Saul came out to meet David and said, “Didn’t the king of Israel do himself honor today—exposing himself today in the sight of the slave girls of his subjects, as one of the riffraff might expose himself!” David answered Michal, “It was before the Lord who chose me instead of your father and all his family and appointed me ruler over the Lord’s people Israel! I will dance before the Lord and dishonor myself even more, and be low in my own esteem; but among the slave girls that you speak of I will be honored.” So to her dying day Michal daughter of Saul had no children (2 Sam. 6:16-23).

This confrontation terminated their relationship and they had no children afterwards. David never spoke (in the text) to Michal until this explosion at the end, and then never again. However, the absence of mutual dialogue does not prove that David had not previously loved Michal. For example, Ralbag (on 6:22) suggests that David loved Michal before this confrontation, but afterwards, stopped loving her. However, it also is possible that David never loved her, and now realized that he no longer needed this marriage with Michal to legitimize his monarchy.

Conclusion

Do you know why you were unable at that time to know “the meaning of love”? Because one only knows it when one both loves and is loved. Everything else can, at a pinch, be done one-sidedly, but two are needed for love, and when we have experienced this we lose our taste for all other one-sided activites and do everything mutually. For everything can be done mutually; he who has experienced love discovers it everywhere, its pains as well as its delights (letter from Franz Rosenzweig to his fiancée Edith Hahn, January 16, 1920). [20]

Franz Rosenzweig stressed the mutual aspect of love to his fiancée, Edith Hahn. The Book of Samuel, in contrast, keeps David’s reciprocal feelings toward Saul, Jonathan, and Michal opaque. Though there are clues that David loved Saul and certainly Jonathan, many of these references can be interpreted in multiple directions given the nature of private and public, as well as personal and political relationships.

It appears likely that David viewed Michal as a ticket to the throne, and once David had secured a consolidated kingdom he no longer needed that relationship. However, it remains plausible, as per Ralbag’s reading, that they also enjoyed a mutual loving relationship until their final confrontation.
Although the text explicitly reports that Saul, Jonathan, and Michal loved David, their loves likewise featured political-public dimensions in addition to the personal affectionate love they likely felt toward David. These complexities and ambiguities further enhance the reader’s experience of such gripping narratives. What is striking is how these ancient texts continue to be so compelling precisely because the language is sufficiently multifaceted to sustain multidimensional interpretations.

NOTES

[1] This article appeared in Jewish Bible Quarterly 40:1 (2012), pp. 41-51.

[2] Robert Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative (New York: Basic Books, 1981), pp. 118-9. This fact becomes all the more ironic in light of the name “David” likely meaning “beloved.”

[3] Susan Ackerman, “The Personal is Political: Covenantal and Affectionate Love (’AHEB, ’AHABA) in the Hebrew Bible,” Vetus Testamentum 52 (2002), pp. 437-458.

[4] See especially William L. Moran, “The Ancient Near Eastern Background of the Love of God in Deuteronomy,” Catholic Bible Quarterly 25 (1963), pp. 77-87.

[5] Literally, the verse reports that “he took a strong liking to him” (va-ye’ehavehu me’od). The NJPS translation follows the reasonable assumption of virtually all commentators that Saul is the subject who loved David. For one objection to this reading, see Gordon C. I. Wong, “Who Loved Whom? A Note on I Samuel 16:21,” Vetus Testamentum 47 (1997), pp. 554-556. Although Yehudah Kiel favors the majority opinion, he expresses uncertainty as well (Da’at Mikra: 1 Samuel [Hebrew], [Jerusalem: Mosad HaRav Kook, 1981]), p. 164.

[6] For a fuller analysis, see Hayyim Angel, “Why Didn’t He Do It? An Analysis of Why David Did Not Kill Saul,” in Angel, Through an Opaque Lens (New York: Sephardic Publication Foundation, 2006), pp. 169-185; revised second edition (New York: Kodesh Press, 2013), pp. 135-148.

[7] Cf. J.T. Pesahim 6:1 (33b): “Three set aside their crowns in this world and inherited the life of the world to come: namely, Jonathan, son of Saul….”

[8] Cf. Robert Alter, The David Story: A Translation and Commentary of 1 and 2 Samuel (New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 1999), p. 123.

[9] Robert Alter, The David Story, p. 198.

[10 Tod Linafelt, “Private Poetry and Public Eloquence in II Samuel 1:17-27: Hearing and Overhearing David’s Lament for Jonathan and Saul,” Journal of Religion 88 (2008), pp. 497-526.

[11] Similarly, Saul was concerned that David would exterminate his family: “‘I know now that you will become king, and that the kingship over Israel will remain in your hands. So swear to me by the Lord that you will not destroy my descendants or wipe out my name from my father's house.’ David swore to Saul” (1 Sam. 24:21-23).

[12] John A. Thompson, “The Significance of the Word Love in the David-Jonathan Narratives in I Samuel,” Vetus Testamentum 24 (1974), pp. 334-338.

[13] Shimon Bar-Efrat, Mikra LeYisrael: 1 Samuel (Hebrew) (Tel-Aviv, Am Oved, 1996), p. 262.

[14] Yehudah Kiel, Da’at Mikra: 1 Samuel, p. 207.

[15] See also Orly Keren, “David and Jonathan: A Case of Unconditional Love?” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 37:1 (2012), pp. 1-23.

[16] It is worth noting that the two most important biblical figures—Moses and David—both were saved by princesses who defied their own fathers’ murderous decrees. Pharaoh’s daughter rescued baby Moses (Exod. 2:5-10), and Michal saved David from Saul.

[17] R. Amnon Bazak, Makbilot Nifgashot: Makbilot Sifrutiyot be-Sefer Shemuel (Hebrew) (Alon Shevut: Hegyonot, 2006), pp. 109-121.

[18] Susan Ackerman, “The Personal is Political,” esp. pp. 441, 447, 452-453.

[19] When Michal saved David against the wishes of her father Saul, the text fittingly identifies her as David’s wife: “Saul sent messengers to David’s home to keep watch on him and to kill him in the morning. But David’s wife Michal told him, ‘Unless you run for your life tonight, you will be killed tomorrow’” (1 Sam. 19:11). Cf. Shemuel Avramsky and Moshe Garsiel, Olam HaTanakh: 1 Samuel (Hebrew) (Tel-Aviv: Dodzon-Iti, 1996), pp. 168-169; Shimon Bar-Efrat, Mikra LeYisrael: 1 Samuel, pp. 244, 249; 2 Samuel, p. 37.

[20] In Nahum Glatzer, Franz Rosenzweig: His Life and Thought (New York: Schocken

Janet R. Kirchheimer, a member of our Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals, is the author of How to Spot One of Us, and she is currently producing AFTER, a documentary of poetry about the Holocaust. Janet is a teaching fellow at Clal-The National Jewish Center for Learning and Leadership.

Published in Mimaamakim

The Nature of Things

I was eleven the spring my father singed his eyebrows off
while burning down pear trees.

Anne Carson says dirt is a minor thing.
This is not true.
Perhaps she has not seen a string bean pushing
its way up through the dirt.

The Rabbis say that Adam gave names to all the animals,
but do not say who named the trees.

These are some of the plant names I love:
Joseph’s coat, Persian shield, Silver shrub, African mallow.

Once in January, my father woke me at four o’clock in the morning
to help cover the parsley in our garden with blankets.
Frost was on the ground.
Stars, so bright at that time of the year, lit the garden.

In June, I call home to ask my father about the gladiolas.
He says some are coming, some are going.

The Talmud says occasionally rain falls because of the merit
of one man, the merit of one blade of grass, of one field.

Published in The Arty Semite – Forward.com

You Think This May Be How It Happens

You’re sitting in an armchair,
it’s your favorite, though
beat up from years of use,
and there is a tear in the fabric
covering the seat cushion, and
it’s after noon, and you’re taking
your nap, and you

wake up and ask your daughter
if anyone is there, you feel as if
someone has been pulling
at your arm, and she tells you
no one is there, to go back to sleep,
and you begin to wonder
if someone was there,

perhaps the Angel of Death who comes
to distract you for the slightest moment
so he can take you, and if you concentrate
on something, studying, praying, or
performing a commandment, the Angel must pass you by
but he is cunning, and will do everything

in his power to distract you, and you are
tired these days and are having
trouble concentrating and remembering things,
and you know the Angel will not stop trying, and
your daughter tells you, again, to go back
to sleep, but you can’t, you keep wondering
if this may be how it will happen.
?

Published in The Arty Semite – Forward.com

One-Sixtieth Prophecy

Near the house,
next to the woodpile,
lies a dream

too weak to enter.

I hold my shadow down as it
tries to escape, shut the windows,
bar the doors, imagine myself
bright and shiny.

I am Joseph in the bor, the pit, empty of water,
but full of scorpions and serpents.

There is no one to listen

to my dreams, no one to interpret them but God.
Or I am Pharaoh.
The interpretations
do not satisfy me, I do not find any relief.

Who will interpret for me?

God will heal you with your own
wounds, declares the prophet Jeremiah.

Ashley Perry (Perez) is President of Reconectar (reconectar.co) and Director General of the Knesset Caucus for the Reconnection with the Descendants of Spanish and Portuguese Communities. He was adviser to Israel's Minister of Foreign Affairs from April 2009 to January 2015. He has also worked with several other government ministers, Members of Knesset and many of the leading international Jewish, Zionist and Hasbara organizations.

Last week, history was made in a manner of speaking, as a Ministry of Education Committee, tasked with empowering Sephardi and Mizrahi cultural studies and history within the general education curriculum, led by Israel Prize laureate Erez Biton, handed its recommendations to Education Minister Naftali Bennett.

While for many, this will barely merit a blip on their radar, for the millions of Jews of Sephardi or Mizrahi background, it is a day that has finally arrived, albeit 68 years too late.

Statistically, every other Jew in Israel comes from the Middle East or North Africa and when the Jews of Morocco, Iran, Spain, Portugal, Yemen, Greece, Afghanistan, Egypt and other places throughout the Sephardi and Mizrahi world study their history and culture at school, it was largely ignored or skipped over.

The lack of education about the history of these Jewish communities allows for bigoted reactions simply largely because of a lack of knowledge and awareness.

Many still refer to Sephardi Jews as somehow “backward,” “superstitious”, “oriental” or “medieval”, as we heard from a well-known radio film critic recently, which is simply bizarre when one understands that, to give but one example, during the last century some of the worldliest, educated, successful and cosmopolitan Jews in the world could be found in places like Cairo and Baghdad.

Others will simply refer to Jewish history, culture and tradition through an entirely Ashkenazi lens.
I can’t count the amount of times I have heard people refer to the “usual” prayer book, the “normal” way of doing things or “traditional” Jewish culture when referencing Ashkenazi custom and tradition.

For those who think this is an exaggeration, try a little thought experiment. When you think of Jewish music, food or language, do you think of anything other than klezmer, gefilte fish, or bagel and lox, and Yiddish, or similar examples?

Do you know any Judeo-Spanish romansas, ever tried Kubbeh matfuniya or heard Judeo-Berber?
This has an effect of creating an “otherness” in respect to these communities, which creates the impression that they are somehow outside the normative social identity of the state and society.
There is no one Jewish way in anything, not history, culture or tradition.

There are a myriad of histories, a kaleidoscope of cultures and cacophony of traditions which makes the Jewish People a beautiful mosaic, each with its roots in our ancestral homeland but with different experiences during the millennia Diaspora.

The State of Israel has always had a tension between two models of identity politics, that of ‘melting pot’ and multiculturalism.

While many of the founding fathers and mothers understandably sought to create a ‘New Jew’ and new society for the reestablishment of sovereignty in our national homeland, it largely meant that it was constructed along Central and Eastern European lines that they had experience of and attempted to emulate.

Israelis Jews were expected to melt away their cultural prism into a largely Central and Eastern European pot.

Unfortunately, this meant that the history and culture of the Jews from other parts of the world were deemed superfluous and even damaging to this national ethos.

Nevertheless, in recent generations there has been a greater move towards multiculturalism, where multiple cultural traditions have gained slightly more prominence, if still not equality.
I firmly believe that the roots of gaining this sought after equality is awareness, knowledge and education.

In 2013, it was released that a new set of four Jewish poets were slated to be placed on Israeli banknotes. Immediately, there was a backlash when all four, Shaul Tchernichovsky, Rachel, Leah Goldberg and Natan Alterman, were Ashkanazi and none were to be Sephardi.

Prime Minister Netanyahu, who only recently discovered that he, like a large number of Ashkenazi Jews, has Sephardi heritage, claimed that the next series will feauture Rabbi Yehuda HaLevi.
All of the four Ashkenazi poets were from the Twentieth Century, yet the Prime Minister of the State of Israel could only come up with a singular Sephardi poet from the Twelfth Century. This episode aptly demonstrates the desperate need for education.

So the committee’s recommendations should be lauded and implemented as soon as possible.
In fact, the committee mentions in its recommendations the issue of the descendants of Sephardi communities who were forcibly disconnected from the Jewish People, the Anousim, and that there should be greater awareness and education of their presence.

Our education system, in Israel and the Diaspora, should be widened to include the millions of our Sephardi brothers and sisters who were forcibly disconnected from us over the centuries and are seeking a reconnection to the Jewish world. Our education system should be preparing the formal Jewish world for the immense and necessary challenge of reconnecting our people.

Moreover, the more we learn about our history and shared ties and culture with the Hispanic world, the more the Hispanic world, whether in the Iberian Peninsular, Latin or North America, will understand their Jewish roots.

This can have a profound and positive effect on bringing our communities closer across the globe.
The Sephardi and Mizrahi world is a massively diverse and multi-faceted arena, and it should be opened up and taught thoroughly to our students and given an equal footing in society.

This committee is an important first step, but there is a lot more work to be done, but the initiators and committee members should be applauded for giving voice to and supporting the rectification of this historical injustice.

These articles by Isi Leibler originally appeared in the Jerusalem Post and Yisrael Hayom.

The tensions created by the ultra-Orthodox Chief Rabbinate within Israeli society have extended to the Diaspora and are now undermining relations with the Jewish state.

Ironically, this is taking place at a time when many Israelis are returning to their spiritual roots. Although Tel Aviv remains outwardly a hedonistic secular city, the secular Ashkenazi outlook that dominated Israeli society is in decline, and even setting aside haredim, Israelis today have become increasingly more traditionally inclined and religiously observant.

The past decades have witnessed the emergence of observant Jews at all senior levels of society. There has been a dramatic revolution in the Israel Defense Forces with national-religious soldiers now occupying senior positions, assuming roles in combat units parallel to what their kibbutz predecessors did in the early years of statehood. There is even a thirst for spiritual values among secular Israelis, accompanied by a major revival of the study of Jewish texts.

Yet simultaneously, there is revulsion and rage at the corruption, extortion and political leverage imposed by powerful haredi political parties and their rabbis.

Unfortunately, the ultra-Orthodox rabbis have effectively exploited their political leverage to assume control of the Chief Rabbinate, which, ironically, they themselves have always despised.

Current Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi David Lau and his Sephardi counterpart, Chief Rabbi Yitzhak Yosef, represent the antithesis of the Chief Rabbinate created 90 years ago by Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, who strove to unite the nation. They stand in sharp contrast to earlier occupants such as Chief Rabbis Yitzhak Herzog and Ben-Zion Meir Hai Uziel, who were great scholars, passionate Zionists, and always sought to blend Judaism with compassion and worldliness.

The current incumbents are narrow-minded bureaucrats completely dominated by the most extreme ultra-Orthodox elements who seek to impose their stringent religious interpretations upon the entire nation.

Today these rabbis are creating significant tensions throughout Israeli society by their lack of compassion and the inflexibility in which they administer issues relating to personal status. As a monopoly, they are able to wield their power and ignore the current conditions facing Jews in a modern Jewish state and instead they impose the most rigid interpretations.

Our rabbinic sages were innovative and practical. Take for example the biblical cancellation of debts in the Sabbatical year. The great rabbinic scholar, Hillel the Elder, saw the hardship that this would cause and, with his Sanhedrin, issued the famous prozbul, which circumvented the law -- and which is still in place today in a modern state and enables the banking system to function. More recently, the heter mechira was instituted by our rabbis in the late 19th century as a solution in relation to shmitta -- the biblical requirement that the land of Israel remain fallow every seven years -- to assist the agricultural sector, including the majority of kibbutzim, that would have suffered economic hardship. These are examples of rabbinic creativity and leadership.

The late Chief Rabbi Ovadia Yosef displayed similar courage and leadership when he effectively closed the debate on immigrants from Ethiopia, deeming them to be halachically Jewish on the basis of historic grounds.

The 300,000 Russian Israelis who are the children of immigrants from mixed marriages pose fewer halachic obstacles than the Ethiopian Jews. Taking into account the history and the Soviet persecution of Judaism, there is little doubt that a courageous and learned rabbi could find halachic precedents that, at the very least, would both encourage and create means of easing the process of conversion for these grown children of Russian immigrants. They contribute toward and share in the burdens of defending the Jewish state and currently face severe problems and humiliation from Rabbis when wishing to marry.

Indeed the former revered Chief Rabbi Zion Ben Uziel actively encouraged and made minimum demands whilst promoting the conversion of children of mixed marriages whom although not halachic Jews, he regarded as a separate category from gentiles, referring to them as Zerah Yisrael - the seeds of Israel.

Regrettably, a rabbi of the stature and courage of former Chief Rabbi Uziel has yet to emerge. Indeed, the haredi inflexibility and determination to deter conversions extends to marriage and divorce with similar rigidity, bureaucratization and lack of compassion. While the moderate Tzohar rabbis are conducting halachic weddings for nonobservant couples that highlight the positive and joyful aspects of a traditional wedding, their numbers are limited and the Chief Rabbinate attempts to exclude them from officiating beyond the confines of their congregations.

The decision by Rabbis Nahum Rabinovitch, Shlomo Riskin, David Stav and others to establish an independent rabbinic court that will perform Orthodox halachic conversions and authorize more Tzohar rabbis to officiate is an attempt to rectify this. But it is being bitterly contested by the Chief Rabbinate, which is backed by the haredi political parties.

Regrettably, progress made by the previous government to bring about changes on personal issues such as conversion, marriage and divorce and integrating haredim into Israeli society were nullified by the new government, now dominated by the haredi parties.

Over the past few years, the Chief Rabbinate has sought to determine the eligibility of Orthodox rabbis outside Israel to conduct conversions and marriages, effectively extending its authority beyond Israel and attempting to assume control of all Jewish life on a global basis. Those not on their accepted list may find that the validity of the conversions or weddings at which they officiated will be rejected by Israeli rabbinical courts.

Throughout the entire period of the Exile, rabbis recognized that there were many faces to Judaism. Independent rabbinical courts were established in every community and there were frequently bitter differences in interpretation between leading rabbis and sages. No rabbi or rabbinical court could claim to be the final arbiter on religious issues.

Yet the Israeli Chief Rabbinate is seeking to alter this and impose itself as the sole arbiter of Jewish law throughout the Jewish world. In effect it is setting itself up as a Jewish Vatican – something utterly unprecedented in our history.

In the current climate, many Orthodox rabbis, fearful of being criticized as tilting to “Reform,” tend to display their piety by adopting more extreme approaches and, as a consequence, the Chief Rabbinate has succeeded in coercing some of the major Diaspora rabbinical associations to accept its hegemony.

This is heightening tensions between Israel and the Diaspora. The histrionic attacks by the Chief Rabbinate against non-Orthodox groups, climaxing with Rabbi Lau’s recent condemnation of Education Minister Naftali Bennett for visiting one of the leading American Conservative day schools, is creating an upheaval.

There are of course fundamental issues concerning the Revelation and the halachic process that will always distinguish the Orthodox from other Jewish denominations. But in the current religious climate, it is surely time to stop this internecine warfare. The greatest challenges facing Orthodoxy, both in Israel and in the Diaspora, are the secularization of Jewish life and the dramatic erosion of Jewish identity.

In this context, Conservative and Reform Judaism, despite their failure to stem intermarriage and assimilation, not only promote belief in God, but encourage their adherents to retain some Jewish traditions.

Orthodox Jews are not compromising their own outlook or observance by reaching out and encouraging non-Orthodox groups to become more traditional and observant -- rather than constantly abusing them.

In addition, despite the failure of many to adequately support Israel, even in the Reform movement there are many rabbis and followers who remain passionate supporters of Israel. But the ongoing tendency of the Israeli rabbinate to delegitimize them will make Israel forfeit the support of major segments of American Jewry and provide encouragement to those post Zionist elements seeking to create a Bundist type Judaism in which Israel plays no role.

In Israel itself we should welcome the substitution of the current atheistic school education in the secular stream with the Conservative TALI curriculum, which encourages belief in God and provides children with a background of Jewish heritage.

To strengthen the Jewish religious revival that is occurring requires the dissolution or at least significant limitation of the power of the Chief Rabbinate.

The vast majority (65%) of Israelis favor dissolution. The obstacles are the dysfunctional political system and haredi retention of the balance of power in the government.

Naftali Bennett and the moderate majority of Habayit Hayehudi could well place themselves at the vanguard of bringing about change. They would be making a major contribution on behalf of religious Zionism for the well-being of the Jewish state and the entire Jewish people.

This requires a united approach by all the non-haredi parties, which has never been forthcoming on this issue. Today, with Israel-Diaspora relations at risk of a dramatic decline and the growing Israeli anger at the coercion imposed upon them, the need for reform or dissolution of the Chief Rabbinate before a crisis erupts is urgent.

*****

The scandalous depths to which the haredi extremists who have abused their rabbinical authority are sinking seem limitless. It is high time for Jews in Israel and the Diaspora to publicly vent their rage and insist that their shenanigans must cease.

The Jewish people can no longer remain hostage to a small group of unworldly ultra-Orthodox radicals who, with a total lack of compassion, monopolize control of Jewish life and seek to impose on the entire community stringent interpretations of Jewish law that even most observant Jews would consider excessive.

What makes this even more grotesque is that the ultra-Orthodox community has profound contempt for the institution of the Chief Rabbinate, which was initially harnessed to promote religious Zionism. It neither feels bound nor accepts the reliability of its supervision and merely exploits the institution to impose its stringent interpretations. It is also an institution where corruption is rampant and jobs are provided as rewards for leading followers.

The power of the extremists derives from Israel’s dysfunctional political system where the ultra-Orthodox political factions hold the balance of power and are in a position to extort.

The straw that may break the camel’s back was the recent public disclosure that conversions conducted in New York by Rabbi Haskel Lookstein, the revered patriarch of the mainstream Modern Orthodox community, were not recognized by the Petach Tikva Rabbinate which is under the jurisdiction of the Israeli Chief Rabbinate.

Lookstein’s father, Rabbi Joseph Lookstein, was one of the early trailblazers of Orthodoxy in the U.S. and a stalwart in promoting the growth of Yeshiva University. A passionate religious Zionist, he was also one of the founders of Bar-Ilan University in Israel, over which he presided as president from 1957 to 1967. He founded the Ramaz day school in 1937 and on his demise in 1979, his son Haskel assumed his father’s role and presided over the community, the synagogue and the school, which has now become a global model for the Modern Orthodox day school.

He has also played a major Jewish leadership role on communal issues such as Israel advocacy and the struggle for Soviet Jewry, and symbolizes the best attributes of Modern Orthodoxy, influencing many thousands. Last month I was privileged to be present when this modest man was awarded a well-deserved honorary doctorate from Bar-Ilan University.

Thus, it can only be described as an abomination when a formal Orthodox conversion conducted by such a respected rabbi is considered ineligible in Israel on the grounds that the Chief Rabbinate decided to exclude him from their “list” of acceptable marriage celebrants.

This is completely unprecedented. The Chief Rabbinate was never intended to globally endorse the credentials of Orthodox rabbis on a Vatican-style register – especially not those in the Diaspora. In this case, the absence of transparency created further chaos with a spokesman from the Chief Rabbinate and the Petach Tikva Rabbinate making contradictory statements about the issue. Ultimately Chief Rabbi David Lau approved Lookstein’s conversions, despite the fact that they were rejected by the Petach Tikva rabbinical court - which is accountable to the Chief Rabbinate.

Former Chief Rabbis Isaac Herzog, Yitzhak Nissim, Shlomo Goren, and Benzion Uziel were deeply learned but also worldly and sought to reconcile Jewish law with the needs of a modern state. The stark contrast between them and their successors, many of whom are ignorant of the world in which they live, lack compassion and compete with one another to display greater stringency in interpreting Jewish law, conveys a totally distorted image of Judaism.

They have sought to impose their standards on all Israelis in relation to issues of conversion, marriage, divorce, and kashrut, bitterly opposing efforts to enroll their students to share the burden of defense, and in some cases denying them the opportunity of receiving an education, thus turning many of their graduates into permanent social welfare cases. This has exacerbated social and religious tensions at all levels.

Efforts by the previous government to enable more moderate rabbis to service the needs of the nation have been foiled.

In recent months, feeling politically empowered, haredi political spokesmen have descended to the gutter in their vile and defamatory outbursts against Reform, Conservative and even Modern Orthodox and religious Zionist Jews. They have created needless tensions with Diaspora – especially American – Jews, and every effort to reach accommodation has been treated with contempt.

They have also sought to purge esteemed Orthodox rabbis like Rabbi Shlomo Riskin and the chief rabbi of the Ethiopian community, Rabbi Yosef Hadane, who were critical of the Chief Rabbinate’s attitude toward conversions.

The disclosure that Rabbi Haskel Lookstein’s converts, including Ivanka Trump, whom he converted and who is now religiously observant, were initially not recognized in Israel, received major coverage in The New York Times. Such embarrassing exposure may bring matters to a head.

It is a time for all Jews and in particular moderate Orthodox Jews to speak out. Where is the voice of the Rabbinical Council of America that was once headed by Rabbi Emanuel Rackman, who represented the antithesis of everything the Chief Rabbinate promotes? He would not have remained silent. Where are the outcries from other Orthodox rabbis?

And where is the voice of Habayit Hayehudi – our National Religious party? Such issues represent the very core and the raison d’etre of religious Zionism. It is not enough for them to mumble protests or for Naftali Bennett to say that the court’s decision was “arbitrary and odd” and should be reversed. He and his party have a historic obligation in this issue and should be leading the charge for reforming or dismantling the system – which would receive the endorsement of the vast majority of Israelis. If religious Zionists do not stand up against such abominations, one cannot expect others to act.

This Chief Rabbinate and extremist haredi politicians alienate Israelis from Judaism. However, the majority of haredim do not seek to coerce the nation to uphold their standards of observance. Indeed, many today recognize the folly of the radical elements and are quietly encouraging reforms within their circles.

The time has come for all Jewish political parties to declare a moratorium and force the government to take action to bring an end to this scandalous state of affairs by breaking the monopoly of the Chief Rabbinate and resisting the extortion of the haredi politicians. The government must be pressured into either reforming or dissolving or it and creating a new system that will provide appropriate religious facilities to serve the Jewish nation.

Failure by Orthodox leaders and organizations to stand up and be counted on this will have catastrophic repercussions on the Jewish values that should represent the foundation of the nation.

Isi Leibler may be contacted at [email protected]

Monique Benun has been a teacher for the past nine years, primarily teaching science in yeshiva high schools in Brooklyn, New York. She earned a bachelor’s degree in Biology from Rutgers University and a master’s in General Science Education from CUNY. This article appears in issue 25 of Conversations, the journal of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals.

Failure to learn is a result of exclusion from participation. When students are active participants in the processes of learning rather than passive recipients of transferred knowledge, learning is optimized. [1]

As educators, we are confronted with many areas in which improvement is possible and most often, necessary. In this article I propose that the methodologies of student-led learning and project-based learning can solve many problems faced by school leaders today. These methodologies are the keys to unlocking student’s potential by increasing standards, individualizing learning, and improving students attitudes toward learning so they may reach their highest academic potential.

Why Honors Tracks and Special Programming May Not Translate Into Higher Academic Achievement

Many schools today advertise elective classes that require qualification to lure better students with promises of high academic standards. However, for several reasons these classes are not translating into actual higher learning.

One problem is the teachers’ failure to design a different curriculum. Many teachers equate “busy work” with higher learning. Gifted students can learn a curriculum on a deeper level and in a shorter amount of time than average students. Teachers often fill the void by assigning extra work that often leaves students feeling like they are being singled out for punishment. Since the work is not of the students’ choosing, it often deflates their motivation and has them regretting that they joined the honor’s track.

A second problem with special programming is the administration’s lack of commitment to the supplemented programs. Although the school may pay for teachers to be trained to teach the advanced curriculum, the school may not follow up to attain and maintain a supply of resources, space, and staff support to keep the program running effectively.

A third issue with the honors track is that there are few teachers to choose from who are knowledgeable enough with the content of the subject area to successfully design and teach a high-standard curriculum. Even when given the parameters for the curriculum, teachers are uncomfortable with the material and do not understand it well enough to teach it effectively.

Fortunately, even for schools which have no extra funds to allocate to better programming, using the student-led and project-based learning methodologies lead to individualized learning standards and address teachers’ lack of knowledge to provide high achieving students with opportunities to reach their potential.

What Are Student-Led and Project-Based Learning?

“PBL is the ongoing act of learning about different subjects simultaneously. This is achieved by guiding students to identify, through research, a real-world problem (local to global), developing its solution using evidence to support the claim, and presenting the solution through a multimedia approach based in a set of 21st-century tools.”[2]

Practically speaking, project-based learning is a way of learning that requires the student to be fully engaged in the identification of a question or problem, and to design, plan, and implement a solution to that problem.

In project-based learning, students choose a particular project of their own design to be completed over the course of a day, a week, or even a semester. During that time students are planning, researching, and presenting their findings and their project proposals to the class. Using rubrics and a timeline for estimated project milestones, teachers and students can verify the time to complete their projects, and teachers have a way to continually assess students’ progress and provide feedback.
Student-led learning supports student choice in how they learn objectives. The educational facilitator (teacher) introduces a concept and briefly explains it. The student then sets about modeling the concept to achieve a more thorough understanding. Using technology to research and present their findings, students become engaged in their learning employing means they are most comfortable with and gain deeper insight into concepts than offered by lecturing alone. “Rather than helping students develop an ability to memorize facts in a textbook, teachers should teach students metacognitive and self-evaluative skills, so they can assess what they need to learn in order to solve a problem or complete a project.” [3]

In a typical engineering class, we begin with a 10-minute introduction to a concept. After explaining the general principal, the class is turned over to the students for student-led learning and inquiry. Working in teams of two to four, students run a simulation and use that activity to generate values of certain units. Using the students’ measured values, mathematical and scientific theories or equations are discovered based on actual measurements.

Ideally, these classes are two periods long as set up and clean up can take up the bulk of time in a 45-minute lesson; however, with modifications to the lab activities, 45-minute periods can be manageable.

Due to the demands of the teacher and the action going on in the room, the learning is best suited to classes ideally limited to 16 students, at most 20, to one educational facilitator.

How Student-Led and Project-Based Learning Address All Skill Levels

The open-ended inquiry and learning is not limited to the highest achieving students or to science subjects. The issue is about its presentation and method of study, not about content. Even if a teacher is less well versed in a content area, the student-led approach to learning allows the teacher to become the educational facilitator, not the stereotypical omniscient lecturer. If a student has a question beyond the teacher’s ken, the student can research the question and write up a small report on the matter for extra points. Student efforts notwithstanding, the teacher should always look up any questions to continually grow in knowledge and have the ability to address and guide students.

Let us use a typical high school Talmud class, to show how the student-led approach may be implemented. In my experience and observations, there was a teacher at the front of the room reading the page and translating while students jotted down definitions to archaic words to try to keep up with the flow of discussion.

In our student-led class the teacher would begin with a short introduction (five to seven minutes) of the topic and brief summary of the discussion.

Next, students could be divided into small groups with a team leader of their choice. Each group would be assigned a section or discussion of a particular topic. The group can self-assign tasks for each individual; one looks up definition of words, one researches the time period to put the discussion into historical context, another student researches the rabbis in the discussion and examples of their general trend of opinions (strict versus lenient), one student is responsible for compiling the information into a slide presentation, and so on. The teacher remains in the room as educational facilitator, guiding and encouraging each group of students, making sure they are on task and focused, all the while reminding them they will be required to present their findings to the class.

Eventually, the groups would present their finding to the class. On that occasion, a department head or other administrator the students consider important would be invited to witness the efforts and success of the students. Informing the students in advance that this person will be invited encourages them to do their best. Once all of the presentations have been given, the teacher could pull all of the ideas together in comprehensive discussions to review the material and prepare students for an exam.

In the scenario above, the students are motivated to show up to class on time so as not to miss the most important part they cannot make up, the teacher’s introduction. Throughout the class students are fully engaged in the material they are learning, rather than being taught and passively absorbing the information. They have a vested interest in the rabbis’ 1,000-year-old discussion through their eyes as students as well as Jews. A subject that is usually deemed by today’s students as irrelevant and difficult to follow, unless watered down and taught at a snail’s pace, is now a dynamic and exciting endeavor in which history is brought to life.

There are many possible variations of the Talmud class example. One such idea is a grade-wide assembly of presentations in which parents may be invited to see their children’s learning and appreciate the opportunities the school gives them to shine and rise to a challenge.

How Student-Led and Project-Based Learning Increase Educational Standards

Despite my years of work preparing for my master’s in education and my years of teaching, I had barely been exposed to the student-led and project-based learning methodology.

Six years ago I was trained over a few week period to teach engineering to high school students. The class structure was organized into two parts: one-quarter part instruction, three-quarters part modeling the concept. This was a drastic change from how I was accustomed to learning and teaching.

Today, most learning follows the traditional method in which students copy down what the teacher says and memorize the material for assessments. Very little applicable knowledge is gained, and therefore, what is learned is easily forgotten. There is little room for student-led learning and this passive learning increases as the student progresses through the grades. [4]

Referring to Bloom’s taxonomy, a pyramid of educational goals organized to show the simplest form of learning on the bottom, and increased learning as you go up the pyramid, we can see that traditional learning satisfies at most, the two lowest forms of learning, remembering and understanding. With only lecturing and following pre-planned activities, student learning is limited. By employing student inquiry, student-led and project-based learning, the acts of applying, analyzing, evaluating, and creating are carried out by students to achieve the highest forms of learning.

Teachers in an honors classes could use the extra time to do modeling and hands on projects with students, use special equipment, and promote student-led research and learning. Specific examples of these concepts in a science course are encouraged use of microscopes; research of a particular topic and class presentation of their findings; student modeling of scientific principles such as force or magnetism as it relates to electricity; development of an engineering project, a unique computer program, or web design.

It is up to the teacher to decide how much of class time is dedicated to student-led and project-based learning. Depending on the subject and the level of experience with these methodologies, teachers can divide class time accordingly between their preferred or necessary mode of educating and the student-led approach. Additionally, much of the project-based learning can be assigned outside of class leaving more time for traditional learning in the classroom.

Research and modeling are not limited to science classes. Students are surprisingly creative in formulating ideas to express a theory, concept or theme. Giving students the opportunities to explore a topic and present their findings in a manner of their own design, using today’s technology helps ensure students’ engagement, enthusiasm, and deeper understanding.

How to Turn Student Familiarity into Your Advantage

In today’s world, familiarity between teacher and student is more prevalent, and respect is secondary. However, there are advantages to this trend. A significant factor that can lead to a student’s success is the bond of friendship that the teacher can forge with his students.

It takes a fair amount of energy on the educational facilitator’s part to be aware of what his or her class is doing; all different things, in the same room, at the same time. However, the payback for student and teacher is tremendous. While student-led learning is going on, there is an opportunity for the teacher to express his or her belief in the student’s potential.

The most important thing the teacher can do is to continually encourage his students. In doing so, there is an avenue for teachers to express respect for students and understanding for their needs. In this way teachers have an easier time developing mutualistic relationships in which both teacher and student benefit. Teachers willing to take into account a student’s difficult circumstance or a conflict in responsibilities and adjust a test date or assignment due date are viewed as partners for whom the students will work harder not to disappoint.

This is not to say teachers should present themselves as pushovers. Generally, teachers need to remain caring but firm. However, when extenuating circumstances present themselves, teachers, like any person in a position of power, can put himself in the student’s shoes and, within reason, try to accommodate his or her needs.

Rigid teachers who demand respect and remain familiarly distanced from students will ultimately find less respectful, less willing, and less engaged students in the classroom. While this information seems self-evident, it is more common in practice. Those very teachers who are inflexible will often deny being so and see themselves as appreciated by students despite the reality to the contrary.

In an environment of mutual regard and consideration, students develop a greater respect for the teacher and themselves, at a time in their lives when they need it most. Moreover, students gain the confidence and experience they need as young adults to plan ahead and stay the course to achieve a goal.

Student inquiry and project-based learning are applicable in all subject areas and can be implemented by all teachers without requiring significant content-area knowledge or experience. Students with varying skill levels can utilize many different methods to accomplish the tasks of researching, organizing, and presenting information.
Additionally, the usage of technological resources and programs to accomplish these tasks become part of students’ skill set not limited to his academic career. The potential for learning in these settings is very high as the students are challenging themselves and pushed to their greatest abilities as seen fit by the educator to design, research, and carry out their own ideas as they relate to learning.

[1] Beloff Farrell, Jill. “Active Learning: Theories and Research.” Jewish Education Leadership, Volume 7:3, Summer, 2009.
[2] Wolpert-Gawron, Heather. “What the Heck Is Project-Based Learning?” Edutopia. January 26, 2015. Downloaded December 11, 2015.
[3] Checkley, Kathy. Student-Directed Learning. Education Update. Volume 37, Number 9 December 1995. Dowmloaded December 15, 2015.
[4] Exline, Joe. “Concepts to Classrooms,” WNET Education 2004. Educational Broadcasting Corporation. http://www.thirteen.org/edonline/concept2class/inquiry/index.html. Downloaded December 10, 2015.

Mrs. Zipora Schorr has served as Director of Education of Beth Tfiloh Dahan Community School in Baltimore, Maryland for more than three decades. She is the recipient of the 2003 Covenant Foundation Award for Exceptional Jewish Educators, serves as a member of the Board of Directors of RAVSAK, is the chair of the Principals' Association of the Day School Council of Baltimore, and lectures widely on best practices in education and on Board Development and Governance. Mrs. Schorr has done her Masters' work in education at Johns Hopkins University, and is a doctoral candidate at Gratz College. This article appears in issue 25 of Conversations, the journal of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals.

All eight of us—all my mother’s children—are in Jewish education in one capacity or another. We are teachers or principals in schools as diverse as Hareidi yeshivot, Modern Orthodox Day Schools, and Community Schools. We have taught English and Math, Hebrew language and Talmud, Parsha and Parshanut. We have led preschools, lower schools, and high schools, have taught special education and adult education, have educated developmentally disabled children and those who are intellectually gifted. Through all of these experiences, we have each grown up with our schools, and have stayed in those schools for many years.

That, in and of itself, is an anomaly. In a field where only 11 to 15 percent of Jewish educational professionals remain in the same positions for 15 years or more, we defy the norm. We have each been in our positions for the greater part of our professional lives; all but three are principals, and two are teachers working for one of their siblings. Six of us are women, two are men, and our collective experience adds up to about 200 years.

All of this is meant to provide a backdrop and a context for some of the conclusions drawn and reflections shared in this essay. While this is clearly not a research article, I would submit that the anecdotal information and the experiences recounted would serve to provide an accurate picture of the landscape of Jewish education over the past 40 to 50 years. Perhaps this is too bold a claim—yet I cannot imagine a more authentic description of the field than that distilled out of the numerous conversations, discussions, conclusions, analyses, frustrations, and triumphs we brothers and sisters have shared. The very familiar relationships conjure up late-night talks, intimate and honest, always reminding us of the universality of our experiences, and the depth of our feeling for our field.

And herein lies the kernel, the core, the essence of what I share, speaking in my voice and in the voice of seven others, all in the same key—different tunes, assuredly, representing different educational environments, but variations on the same theme, ending with the same chorus.

Thoreau said, “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation, and go to the grave with the song still in them” (Civil Disobedience and Other Essays). We eight, in contrast, feel we lead lives of deep meaning, and we do so with a sense of joy and passion. Because at the heart of what we do is exactly that: heart. In short, we love what we do because we love why we do it: We love our students, and through them, we touch the future.

Although this may read like a cliché, we would each assure you that we mean it, and you have only to ask our students and they would confirm it. They know, without a doubt, that we care deeply about them, and we help them to care deeply about themselves—no easy feat in the complex and troubling world in which they find themselves.

A brief history: I have always wanted to be a teacher, always assumed I would be one. My early years were spent in the Kindergarten classroom of my older sister, who was my second teacher.

My first teacher was my mother, widowed at the age of 44, who was a model of strength and compassion, resilience and joy for all of her children, whom she raised alone, though she would have denied that. “Ich nem dem Aibishter bei dem hant,” she would say, “I take God by the hand, and he takes me where he needs me to go.” Simple and elemental, this is where my belief and my faith had their roots.

My first teaching job was at the age of 12, when I taught Sunday School for yet another sister, and learned to demonstrate authority and confidence, even when I didn’t feel it. I subsequently went on to become a high school English and Math teacher, a teacher of Humash and Jewish Thought, and then became the founding principal of a school for which I was expected to hire teachers, develop curriculum, order books and supplies, read architectural plans, and meet with the contractors of our new building. I was 25 years old. What I had was chutzpah—but even then I also had the passion that has never abated.

“MiKol melamdai hiskalti.” I learned a great deal in those years, some things by trial and error, but mostly through my mentors: my sisters and brothers.

“MiTalmidai yoter miKulam.” But it was from my students I learned the most, learned by listening carefully to the “small still voice” that trusted me enough to teach me.

And so, the first thing I learned was that, in order to teach, you need to have a safe space in which your students can learn. More than ever, creating a sense of sureness and stability is central to the emotional climate of our students. Of course we are institutions of learning, and of course the discourse must be stimulating and challenging. But our children cannot learn if they are unavailable for instruction, and they cannot be available for instruction if their emotional health is compromised by a sense of insecurity.

Needless to say, our partnership with parents becomes more important as we strive to provide that safe environment, but here, too, changes in society militate against our ability to provide that sense of safety and security. Specifically, I am referring to the upheaval in the structure of the American Jewish family, held hostage by the changes in society at large.

I have learned that our Jewish families are not immune from those changes, and in some cases are most vulnerable, because our culture expects us to produce the best and the brightest. Changes in gender roles, children who are over-subscribed and over-programmed, parents who are financially challenged, families where both parents work full-time, the demise of the extended family and the lack of support systems once provided by neighboring relatives—all of these factors contribute to the weakening family.

I have learned that the strength of the family is necessary for the strength of the school, and is crucial to the reinforcement of the principles and values a school strives to teach.

I say this despite the fact that one of the seminal articles on contemporary Orthodoxy, Haym Soloveitchik’s 1994 essay in Tradition magazine, describes the replacement of the religious authority of the family, the mimetic expression of religious norms, by the authority of the school.

The “superior” textual knowledge of the teachers and rebbeim is seen in sharp contrast to the less Jewishly educated, or perhaps more organically educated parents.
While I see this trend very starkly, whether in yeshivot or community Day Schools, it leads me to a conclusion that seems self-evident but is often ignored: I have learned that, to fully educate a child Jewishly, we must educate the family as well. Our children have not simply sprung from the earth. They come to us with values and norms that are formed in the home, and if those values and norms are not brought into consonance with those of the school, at best there will be dissonance, at worst rejection of one or the other.

I have learned, then, that “the parents are not the enemy,” but vital partners and co-learners of all that we attempt to instill in our children. V’heishiv lev avot al banim veLev banim al avotam. The only way that we can actualize this “premise of partnership,” however, is for both parties to have respect and regard for the other. And that can only happen with a deep understanding on the part of the teacher that, as one parent put it, “my child is a piece of my heart walking around outside of my body.” I share an astounding insight that I have consistently found: I have hired teachers who were single or married without children. They may have been excellent educators to begin with, but the transformation that takes place as soon as they have children of their own is very real, as these teachers begin to relate, in a profound way, to the depth of feeling the parents of their students have for their children. And, along with that, teachers further need to acknowledge the sophistication, intelligence, and indeed independence of parents who are no longer of the generation where what the teacher says is sacrosanct.

But in order for there to be mutual respect, the teacher too must earn the respect of the parent. Since the role itself has ceased to command the respect of bygone times, there must be other factors that could encourage this respect.

I have learned that a teacher who is well-schooled in best practices, who is professional and prepared, who knows his or her subject matter and can convey it clearly, who is open to suggestion and seeks guidance, will be the kind of teacher that a parent can and will respect.

Therein lies a major challenge for our times, because our finest minds are not going into the field that I consider the most important calling of all: educating the hearts and minds of our children—which brings me to a crisis in the world of education that is shared by those in the general education world as well as those in the Jewish education world: the dearth of qualified personnel.

And it seems as though the only way that can change is if the respect factor toward teachers and toward teaching as a viable choice of profession can be increased, and that requires more than just teacher training centers. It requires a societal shift that sees the teachers of our children as valued partners in raising and nurturing our next generations.

It requires more than respecting teachers; it requires respecting the profession, the calling that teachers have chosen, and elevating that calling to a place of prestige. I wish I would hear parents declaring that their son or daughter is a teacher with the same pride I hear when they declare that their son or daughter is a doctor or lawyer.
I have learned that if parents hold teachers in high esteem—in overt and in subtle ways—that maybe their children will see teaching as a profession and calling that brings with it respect and high esteem.

And it is not this attitude alone that children reflect. Our children accept—or reject—our worldview and values not from what we tell them, but from what they see and what they observe from their teachers and their parents.

I have learned that children often do not hear what we say, because the words are drowned out by what we do. Research shows that 30 seconds in to a lecture accompanied by a wagging finger, a child’s attention is lost. By contrast, that same child will watch her teacher or her parent talking during prayer, and that lesson will follow her into adulthood.

Our teachers would likely be amazed at the actual practice in the homes of their students, practice that differs widely form the image those parents try to project.
I have learned, therefore, that we really cannot know in what circumstances our students are brought up, what things they see and what words they hear. Our schools are much more diverse than ever before, because our communities are more diverse, with an influx of ba’alei teshuvah, Jews from the former Soviet Union, Iranian Jews, and other Jewish ethnic groups. Although this multiculturalism is enormously enriching for our children, the challenge is helping our families welcome these groups as part of klal Yisrael, not as the Other. The challenge for our teachers is understanding the cultural differences not only in these groups, but in the larger school community, with differences in lifestyle and in religious observance.

I have learned, therefore, that every child, every issue, every demanding situation has a context, has a back story, and no judgment, no policy, and no decision can be made without contextualizing the situation. When a teacher bemoans the “breakdown of standards,” I ask him or her to “quantify.” Are we describing a widespread malady, I ask, or is it an anomaly within the group, an outgrowth of a cultural attitude? When a discipline issue surfaces, I ask the teacher to make sure she understands the way some families communicate, and ask that teacher to understand the behavior within the context of the child’s reality.

This is not to say that schools should be places of chaos and disorder.

But I have learned that without quantifying, and without considering context, no story is complete. Decisions and policies made in a vacuum, therefore, are purely cosmetic, because they are not responding to real-life situations, but to a theoretical construct that bears no resemblance to reality. Must a child understand the consequences of his actions, and be ready to accept those consequences? Of course.

But I have learned that, without considering all of the background information and the child’s own reality—cultural, emotion, familial—the policy is meaningless. Perhaps we find comfort in the consistency of the words in the rule book, but let us then admit that we are not dealing with the young person standing before us, in all of his complexity, with tears in his eyes, and pain in his heart.

Which brings us full circle to our purpose, our goal, our reason for being, the cause to which we are dedicated: the heart and soul of our holy charges.

A Hassidic story captures it best. The story is told of the Baal HaTanya, who came knocking at the door of the Mezritcher Maggid. “Who is it,” asks the Maggid. “Ich, it is I,” said the Baal HaTanya. “Who?” he asked once again. And once again the answer was “ich” (“I” in Yiddish). “’Ich,’ you said?” said the Maggid with a tormented sigh. ‘Ich’? I have worked for 20 years to eradicate the ‘ich’ from you, and you come brazenly to my door and say “ich?”

Our goal is to remove our “ich,” and embrace the centrality and importance of our children, not ourselves. Jim Collins, author of the management manifesto Good to Great, speaks of Level V Leadership, the level of leadership to which we aspire, whether as teachers, as institutional leaders, even as parents. The core of Level V Leadership?

Humility, no different from the description the Torah gives of the quintessential icon of leadership, Moses. “Ve-haIsh Moshe anav me’od miKol adam,” “And the man, Moses, was humblest of all people.” Moses was indeed only a man, not a god, but his greatness was that he knew that, and he acted as a “servant leader.”

Author and educational philosopher Thomas J. Sergiovanni, in his groundbreaking work “Moral Leadership” cogently articulates this concept, and in so doing captures so many of our Torah values. “Truly effective schools are those with a …covenantal relationship…sacred authority…” with the leader case in the role of “servant leader.”
How strikingly resonant of the description of Moses, eved Hashem, servant to God, but steward too, of his people, whom he guided with humility.

All of this informs my vision of Jewish education for the future. You will notice that I did not touch upon technology and scientific advances, curriculum and administrative structure, enrollment and recruitment, affordability and sustainability, fiduciary responsibility and fiscal viability. All of these are topics that are important and real; all of these are issues with which we grapple each day, and which certainly require our attention. But these are all the corporeal manifestation of schools, akin to the body that God has created. While the body is the medium through which we serve, it is ultimately only a vessel, one that houses the heart and the soul.

And it is, ultimately, the heart and the soul with which I am concerned, the heart and the soul of the child whom I serve, the heart and soul of the school within which I serve.
My vision, therefore, of the ideal Jewish school, begins with the underpinning of humility in leadership, open to ideas, to innovation, to creativity. It is a school that has well-trained, committed and passionate teachers and leaders, who are respected by the stakeholders as professionals and partners, and who themselves are respectful of the “tselem Elohim” in the holy children they teacher.

It is a school that teaches not only children but families, a school where the role of the family is acknowledged and valued, a school where it is understood that the family and school have an important symbiotic relationship which enhances both.

Finally, this physical space called a school is reshaped into a “mikdash me’at,” a safe and secure haven where questioning and learning and growing can take place, where passion and joy are the engines that drive the entire endeavor, and where the hearts and souls of all who enter are touched and transformed.

Rabbi Jeremy Rosen is a graduate both of Cambridge University and Mir Yeshivah in Jerusalem. He worked in the Orthodox rabbinate and Jewish education in the United Kingdom before retiring to New York where he teaches, lectures, and writes. He is the rabbi of the Persian Jewish Community in Manhattan. This article appears in issue 25 of Conversations, the journal of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals.

Introduction

In 1968, I returned to Britain from yeshiva in Jerusalem to take on my first full-time rabbinic position as rabbi of the largest congregation in Scotland, the Giffnock & Newlands Congregation in Glasgow. It was a thriving community that had just moved into a new palatial synagogue and center that reflected its position in a community of nearly 20,000 Jews. Glasgow, at that time a community made up primarily of Jews from Lithuania, had several large synagogues and many smaller ones, a Bet Din, a yeshiva, a Jewish Day School, and a full array of welfare agencies and cultural societies.

Today the community numbers several thousand. Former congregants of mine can be found in London and Manchester in the UK, and in the United States, Israel, Canada, and Australia. Glasgow’s decline is symptomatic of the demographic changes that Jewish communities have always gone through. Who remembers that a thousand years ago Bari and Otranto in Southern Italy were among the largest and most learned Jewish communities in the world?

Jewish communities have always experienced political, physical, and spiritual cycles. The innovations of Karaites, Kabbalists, Hassidim, Maskilim, and Reform have all affected the character of Jewish life at various times. They have challenged and enriched, risen as innovative movements and then sunk back into conservative establishments. Life is cyclical, both in nature and in human affairs. Jewish life, like all others, has gone through periods of creative innovation and then retrenchment and back again. So the changes that I have experienced in my lifetime are merely blips in the history of humankind and are not the final story.

Israel

Looking back at my 50 or so years as a rabbi to Orthodox congregations in various countries, without any doubt the single most important external factor for change, for better and for worse, has been Israel.

Since 1948 and the creation of the State of Israel, the feeling in Europe that Jews were not wanted and had nowhere to go, nowhere to flee to, has disappeared from the Jewish psyche. Nevertheless, the sense of insecurity, even alienation, that many Jews felt did not begin to disappear until 1967. The early years of the State were years of hope, but also years of anxiety and fear that the amazing achievements of ingathering and state-building could be snuffed out at any moment by its surrounding enemies. They were years of deep divisions; between the secular and the religious, Ashkenazic and Sephardic, and between different ethnic communities and political parties in Israel. This was something that was a completely new phenomenon for most Diaspora Jews. All of this continues of course, but it is not as dogmatically intransigent as I recall in the 1950s and 1960s, when Mapai and the secular parties ruled the roost.
Until 1967, Jewish communities in the Diaspora thought of themselves as self-sufficient, both religiously and culturally. They looked at the community in Israel with warmth and commitment, as a child that needed nurturing despite its behavioral problems. Those of us who were traditional to whatever degree found the strongly anti-religious atmosphere that pervaded government institutions, offices, and personnel in Israel at that time discomforting and troubling. In the Diaspora, Jewish communities tended to revolve around religious life to whatever degree. In Israel, aggressively anti-religious sentiment was something quite unique.

After 1967, so much began to change. Anti-religiousness began to soften. There was a tangible sense that the amazing military victories were to some degree inspired from On High. Idealism transferred from socialism to nationalism, and Sephardic communities began to assert themselves. Religious education and institutions began to expand, and for all its problems, Israel now represented security and confidence. In contrast to the secular Zionist, a new form of pioneer, the Messianic-inspired settler on the West Bank (to distinguish those who settled out of conviction as opposed to financial benefit), created a new sect in Judaism, the Chardal, Haredi Le’umi, the Pious Nationalist. Menachem Begin was responsible, more than any other leader, for eventually turning Israel into a Jewish State rather than just a state of Jews. As political parties with religious or traditional constituencies began to gain in influence during the 1970s, for the first time one saw employees with kippot working in government offices and institutions.

Israeli society continued to evolve in unforeseen ways. Before 1967, there were relatively few Diaspora students in yeshivot in Israel. Soon the trickle turned into a flood, and new yeshivot of all colors, degrees, and ideologies began to mushroom. More Americans came to settle in Israel. The secular world was energized by the Russian immigration. But to the surprise of the Left, they turned out to vote for right-wing parties. Then came the Ethiopian immigration, who experienced all the difficulties of absorption and integration that previous waves of immigrants had. Meanwhile, the growing Haredi community, driven both by significant immigration and a high birthrate, began to expand beyond its original ghettos and assert itself more and more. At the same time, Israelis who left Israel rarely joined local Jewish communities.

Today, Israel has come to dominate Jewish life everywhere. All Diaspora communities are dependent on it for marriage, educational resources, religious scholarship, both yeshivish and academic, to a degree that was unimagined previously. Where once Bavel overshadowed Eretz Yisrael, now for the first time since the destruction of the Temple, it is Israel that overshadows the Diaspora. There is more religious creativity, variety, experiment, and depth there than in all of the Diaspora put together and doubled. The same of course can possibly be said culturally, in terms of literature, music, dance, and theater.

But at the same time, the pendulum of world opinion has swung dramatically against Israel. Whereas once Zionism sought to normalize Jews and solve Jewish problems, the contrary is now true. In the 1950s, Israel, a socialist state touted for its kibbutzim, communal settlements based on Marxist ideals, attracted left-wing idealists from all over the world. Since then, Israel has largely turned its back on socialism. It was believed that Zionism would make Jews the same as everyone else and destroy the ghetto Jew. It has in fact resurrected the hatred that was too embarrassed to admit its pathology after the Holocaust and now has morphed from anti-Zionism to anti-Semitism and has spread unashamedly from Islam to fascism to left-wing liberalism. Ironically, it has only increased the sense of Jewish exceptionalism. Nevertheless, all this, together with Israel’s economic success, has completely changed the Jewish self-image. Whereas once the Jews were disdained for being weak, rudderless, and rootless, now they are hated for being strong, chauvinistic, aggressive, and successful.

The numerical and financial power of Islam is making itself felt throughout the Western world, and its migrations are changing the characters of the receiving countries. The left-wing that once had the Soviet Union as its unifying symbol, now only has anti-Americanism and anti-capitalism to rail against. Israel is regarded as the symbol of capitalist imperialism, a proxy for the United States and therefore the symbol of everything the left detests. Logic or the facts have never affected prejudice—and prejudice against Israel is now the default of the intellectual world. Just as 50 years ago I could not have envisaged the dynamic impact Israel would have on Jewish life, neither could I have foreseen how hated it and we would become.

I am not sure all this is necessarily negative. If I had to choose (and I would not want to be put in this position), I would rather be strong and hated than weak and loved. But what I regret most profoundly about Israel is what I regret about almost every country I know, and that is its politics and its political culture, because it has invaded and infected the body of Judaism.

Religious Triumphalism

When I say that ultra-Orthodoxy is going through a period of triumphalism I am referring to attitude rather than birthrates. The nature of political bargaining has infected the religious world. I recall in the 1950s huge Haredi demonstrations in Israel against autopsies. The Ministry of Health in those days was in the hands of the ultra-secular left-wing Mapam party. Mapam eventually merged with Mapai, Ben Gurion’s mainstream party of the left. Mapam’s position was that religious objections to using bodies for medical practice or for autopsies to determine the causes of death, were both superstitious and retrograde; they stood in the way of progress. Initially, moderate religious parties negotiated compromises that three doctors had to sign off on any request for post mortems; only bodies donated by the deceased or the family could be used for medical practice; and remains would be treated with respect and buried afterward. All these agreements were shown to have been ignored on the ground. The demonstrations were designed to curb the abuses.

The official position of the Haredi demonstrators was that all autopsies, post mortems, “Nituhei Meytim,” were absolutely forbidden by halakha. Now anyone familiar with halakha will know that this is not the case, especially where it can save life, and indeed organ donation to save life had been acceptable to the first Chief Rabbis of Israel. Here is not the place to go into the nuances of halakha. My point is that in order to bring pressure to bear on Mapam, and having seen that compromises had failed, a new modus operandi was established within Haredi circles. Because one was dealing with politics as much as religion, one could present an extreme position as normative in order to achieve one’s ends. In other words, knowing that compromise at some stage would be necessary, you do not start negotiations with concessions, you start with maximalist demands in the hope of settling halfway. This explains the implacable opposition of the Haredi world nowadays, the refusal to even consider limited military service, basic minimal secular education, all things that some of the greatest rabbis of the 1950s were in favor of.

The Zionist pioneers, the Sabras, always prided themselves on their no-nonsense, “dugri” approach to people and life. None of the effete, Germanic exaggerated false politeness. This produced the notoriously arrogant Sabra. Although Israelis are much less arrogant and more nuanced nowadays, that old arrogance can still be felt in the public arena. From the start of the State the political climate was poisoned by the antagonism between Ben Gurion’s left and Begin’s right. The Altalena affair was emblematic. On Ben Gurion’s orders the Haganah destroyed the ship commissioned by Begin’s Irgun (as the two armies were being integrated) to bring badly needed arms to Israel during its War of Independence. It set the tone for political debate. Which soon descended into recrimination and confrontation in the Knesset; rudeness, shouting abuse and occasionally throwing punches. This culture of “he who makes most noise usually wins the point” or at least gains credit from his constituency, soon became the norm in Israel—as indeed it did in most democratic systems. But in Israel, because religion and politics were intertwined, this aggressiveness infected religious discourse, too. Religions usually are affected by the prevailing culture. To use a totally inappropriate term, pork barrel politics, the world of political payoffs and bribery, soon became the norm in Israeli political society, and it has become thus in ultra-Orthodox society too, with its strident demands, blackmail, and cash for votes.

It is the Israeli tendency of confrontation in debate that has given religion an aggressive and combatant aura and its reputation for graft and importuning. But it has also fueled the desire for greater and greater strictness, as if this were the only response to the challenge of modernity and secularism. It is true that putting up barriers, refusing to compromise, and disregarding obvious inequities is the natural knee-jerk reaction of a beleaguered minority. The ultra-Orthodox used to see themselves this way and claimed that any reaction against them was an example of Nazism. I can’t think of a more ridiculous and inappropriate epithet, but again, as is the norm in political conflict, words are intended to hurt, not communicate. Similarly, in disputes on religious issues it is common to hear perfectly Orthodox committed rabbis who take a different approach, described as apostates, enemies of the Jews, and betrayers of the faith.

If once the Haredi population saw itself as discriminated against, in many parts of Israel today the boot is now on the other foot. The tables are beginning to turn. The vast amounts of money given each year to religious education, welfare, and institutions has fueled the growth and power of this significant minority. But it seems the more they get, the less they are prepared to concede. The Judaism of sensitivity toward the less observant, inclusivity, and tolerance is fast disappearing. Even the Sephardic world, once symbolic of tolerant inclusive leniency, is increasingly aping the worst aspects of the Ashkenazic communities. It is true that such dismissal of other points of view goes back to the days of the Old Yishuv and the way the Sonnenfeld camp behaved so crudely toward Rav Kook. But whereas once it was an occasional aberration, now it has become the norm.

The Holocaust

The Holocaust is another crucial feature of Jewish life. Its influence has been felt in several different areas. In Israel, after having been largely ignored and psychologically repressed during the early days of the State, it has become the core component of Israel’s identity. Masada was once the icon from the Roman period of the Jewish struggle for self-determination. The Holocaust has now become the modern icon—with some justification of course. Because had Israel been an independent state during the rise of Nazism, millions could have been offered sanctuary where no other so-called civilized country was prepared to take on the moral obligation.

During the 1950s, the Holocaust lurked deep in our psyches. But it was in the next decade, after the Eichmann trial, that the Holocaust became the compelling narrative of Jewish identity. Israeli society embraced the tragedy as a compelling justification for a Jewish State and much of Diaspora society as a substitute for religious commitment. Ironically, over the succeeding years it came to be regarded by anti-Israelis of all kinds as proof that Israel was founded only because of the sins of the Imperialist world, and even Obama used it as the justification for Israel’s existence in his now infamous Cairo speech in 2009.

The Haredi world had always resisted the formal state Holocaust narrative and remembrance days instituted either by the Knesset or the Chief Rabbinate as mere tokenism. Indeed, they argued that secular Zionism remembered the fighters of the Warsaw ghettos as the ideal response. Haredim on the other hand offered an image of spiritual fortitude and dignified martyrdom rather than pointless physical resistance. The Holocaust for them was such a catastrophic and traumatic event because they were overwhelmingly the majority of those murdered. Their response was to make the image of the destruction of the ghettos the compelling reason to focus entirely on rebuilding and restocking the wells of Torah that had been so brutally destroyed. Looking back to the mythical past became their animating narrative as they reacted by having as many children as possible and devoting their time to study and prayer.

Added to this was the sense that Western cultures, so vaunted as the symbol of the moral superiority of educated mankind, had either actively participated in the rise of Nazism or turned a blind eye to the fate of the Jews. Anything that reeked of secularism was therefore self-evidently corrupt and to be avoided. The only response to the Holocaust was to ensure that Judaism did not disappear and accord Hitler a posthumous victory. Any nod in the direction of secular culture was a betrayal. Meanwhile for many Jews, mainly in the Diaspora, remembering and teaching the Holocaust became an alternative way of expressing one’s Jewish identity without having to deal with the demands of religious behavior.

The Hassidic Model

Slowly and imperceptibly, more than ever before, Hassidism has proved to be the dominant internal influence, whether consciously or not, on ultra-Orthodoxy today. Its influence has not just been through its political and financial power or even so much in the fact that non-Hassidic branches of Orthodoxy have adopted its business model. Rather it is in its anti-intellectualism, in its absolute rejection of anything non-religious way beyond anything seen in Europe before the Second World War.

Most of the Orthodox survivors of the Holocaust were Hassidim who came from the Carpathians, with its longstanding tradition of resisting any secular, cultural, or Zionist influence. The Hassidic opposition to secularism and rationalism came to dominate the Haredi world. Its anti-intellectualism, with its emphasis on “simple faith,” made it resistant to any form of rational religion. Chabad Hassidism, which expressed the more cerebral aspect of Hassidic thought, resisted rationalism and adhered internally to fundamentalism, even if its acceptance of other Jews, no matter how far they had strayed, made it appear more receptive. Its use of modern methods of public relations and promotion often belie its underlying conservatism and fundamentalism. Chabad has identified with the State of Israel far more than most other Hassidic sects, and its aggressive maximalist attitude toward territorialism has set it apart from most of the the Hassidic movements.

Ironically, the massive growth of the Haredi world was dramatically aided by the much disparaged socialist policy of welfare. Whether in Israel, Europe, or America, state aid boomed after the Second World War, inspired by civil notions of welfare rather than religious ones. This product of secular values was crucial in enabling a culture of dependency. It also reduced the need to earn a living, along with its requirement for secular educational skills of varying degrees.

Its system of disciplined authority with the rebbe and his court at the summit, its exceptional commitment to charitable works, and its encouragement of the accumulation of wealth helped it become so dominant that eventually even the anti-Hassidic Lithuanian community, the yeshivish world, soon adopted all its trappings of power and authority. But that world was also one in which violence was tolerated—against recalcitrant members, against anyone trying to challenge the authority of the rebbe, and against other groups perceived as threats. Such violence has been seen increasingly in both Hassidic and Lithuanian circles, whether at election time or when rival camps of supporters of candidates for power or leadership battle it out, either in yeshiva halls or the streets of Haredi neighborhoods.

In suggesting that Israel itself plays a major part in all of this might seem unfair, when we have witnessed similar trends elsewhere in other religions. But the nature of Israeli society, its tone and character, as well as its welfare, have certainly played a crucial part in the processes I have outlined. The confrontation, the aggression that now characterizes debate within the Haredi community, is undermining its amazingly positive qualities of social welfare and support, not to mention religious devotion, study, and strong sense of group identity. Similarly, its reluctance to deal with abuse within families reflects both a suspicion of the outside world and an overly protective attitude toward male perpetrators precisely because as Haredi men they are often given a pass.

All this is of course to be seen elsewhere, but the Israeli version is all the more disturbing to us who care. They make Orthodox Judaism less welcoming to challenge, difference, and individuality, and less tolerant.

The competitiveness within Orthodoxy has also led to increasing stringency, both with regard to the letter of Jewish law and trappings of outward identity and separateness. Each new generation seems to be stricter than the previous one. I used to think once there would come a moment when the next generation of religious leaders would make their personal mark on the Jewish world by being more lenient. In fact, over time it has gotten worse. The new generation of Hassidic rebbes I encounter are stricter than their forbears. This is true in America as much as it is in Israel. This cannot go on forever; eventually it will change. Only my time scale was wrong.

My predictions were wrong on this issue as they were, too, with regard to the Chief Rabbinate in Israel. In the 1950s, the Haredi world completely ignored the State Rabbinate. This meant that dynamic Chief Rabbis like Rav Shlomo Goren could make halakhic decisions more attuned to the needs of Israeli society in general. The Haredi authorities cared only for their communities. I expected that this would continue, and the State Rabbinate would hold the line of moderation and concern for the wider public in Israel. But as the Haredi world needed more jobs for its growing population, ideally in religious occupations, and as employment in the Rabbinate and the religious courts offered excellent remuneration, they began to infiltrate the system to the point where they now control it. Only rabbis sympathetic to their authority and dictates will be elected to senior positions. This has completely undermined the moderate rabbis who increasingly have to create their own organizations, such as TZOHAR, outside of the Chief Rabbinate and often in conflict with it. This is getting worse. The only hope is that things get so bad that the Chief Rabbinate will undermine itself and be reformed. But if my record of poor predictions holds true, the opposite will happen.

One of the features of modernity is easy communication. Once upon a time a rabbi was master of his own community, and it might have taken months for news of any decisions he made to reach other communities. By then, a local tradition and authority on the ground would have been established. Nowadays there is instant global contact. A decision made on Tuesday night in New York will be challenged on Wednesday morning in Jerusalem. Pressure can be brought to bear in anyone thought to be undermining religious authority instantaneously, including through physical violence. The fortitude required to withstand a sustained campaign of abuse, de-legitimization, and charges of heresy inhibits innovation and new ideas. New usages of old words like “masora” (tradition) are used to argue against change. This has prevented creative solutions to halakhic problems that still plague our society—issues such as the agunah, conversion of Russian Israelis, and problems of Jewish identity. The world is indeed smaller and as a result more challenging and dangerous. To disagree nowadays in the Haredi world courts humiliation and insult. Only the strongest can resist.

Outreach

Another significant new feature of Jewish life over the past 50 years has been the growth of outreach. The first modern example of outreach in Judaism was Hassidism itself in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. But their evangelical beginnings were soon diluted. It was Chabad, under the leadership of its last rebbe, that dramatically changed the Jewish world. It led the way in outreach to all Jews, regardless of degree of commitment, contrasted most noticeably with the inward-looking exclusivity of almost all the other Hassidic sects.

Regardless of its special and often peculiar ideology, Chabad is in fact the primary resource for Jews of all degrees around the world seeking some measure of Jewish religious provision. Their open attitude to every Jew regardless of background contrasts with their own very strict internal pressure to conform and powerfully fundamentalist approach to Judaism. But their unfailing willingness to serve communities and universities despite this, indeed despite their excessive predilection for vodka, has given them a dominant role in Jewish life both within and beyond the ghettos.

Chabad pioneered outreach in the 1950s, and in Israel came to be associated both with the State and with territorial maximalism. After 1967, their methods of communication and salesmanship were copied by a number of non-Hassidic outreach movements. Suddenly a whole range of movements mushroomed from within ultra-Orthodox yeshivot and institutions serving the newly religious, or ba’al teshuvah community, proliferated. Israel itself became the destination of thousands of young men and women spending a year between high school and college to explore their religious identity in Israel.
Although the numbers returning have not replaced the greater number assimilating, these movements have helped regenerate many areas of Jewish life. In addition, they have been in the forefront of the battle to combat rising anti-Semitism and the almost universal movement to delegitimize Israel. The trouble is that the “newly persuaded” often take matters much more literally and without discrimination than those brought up in the confident atmosphere of established tradition. This tendency to go by the book rather than through the absorption of different family practices and customs has led, in many circles, to a rigidity and inability to compromise, a reliance on the letter of the law rather than its spirit.

Individuality

But in my view there is another countervailing and no less significant feature of modern Jewish life that owes its existence both to Israeli society and Western secular society. I refer to the culture of individuality and choice that can be detected both within ultra-Orthodoxy and more evidently beyond. Of course “individuality,” like most words, can mean different things to different people. I do not mean the unbridled power of the ego to insist on doing whatever a person wants to do. But I do mean the right of the individual to pursue important goals and to make important decisions for himself or herself.

In religion, the primary challenge is to encounter the Divine and then use that encounter to improve the quality of one’s life on both the spiritual and the physical level. After all, I am the one who is commanded to encounter God. I have to do this in a way that satisfies my own specific mind and brain. That is the command implicit in the Shema and in the first of the Aseret haDibberot. But this is something I have to do. No one can do it for me. Most human beings are either unable or unwilling to embark on such a challenge, and so they accept without question dogmas, rules, conventions, and habits. We live in a world where we have the opportunity and are encouraged to explore and to challenge ourselves and to decide whether certain experiences are having the desired effect or not. We live now in a world where we can experiment, and even within defined religious structures, we have choices.

Ultra-Orthodoxy, like all conservative movements, is by its very nature resistant to change and individual choices. Quite the contrary. One of its mantras is “Bitul haYesh,” the importance of completely suppressing any materialism or individuality. But in practice there is evidence of much more individuality. There is greater fluidity and movement between the different sects than ever before. Even within the boundaries of the Haredi world, there are signs that many of the faithful, while not openly challenging the centralized hierarchy, do in fact choose to not always accept the authority of the leadership on every issue. The proliferation of smartphones and the internet in Haredi society, despite repeated bans issued from their religious leadership, is one obvious example. More and more young men are choosing to do military service in Israel, to qualify for careers, even entering academia and combining religious life with commercial activity. All of this inevitably takes them out of the ghettos and opens their minds to other ways of life and thought. Within the Haredi world itself, the growth of media activity, professional organizations, industries catering to Haredi needs, and the engagement in local and national politics have all introduced them to different ways of doing things and thinking. One even often sees examples of Haredi women who are better educated than their husbands, agitating for more of a say in the way their communities are run. All of this is bound eventually to filter through.

But it is beyond the ultra-Orthodox world that religious creativity and innovation can be seen more clearly. Within the major centers of Jewish life, more and more committed religious Jews chose to move between congregations, sometimes belonging to several simultaneously and sometimes none. They choose where to go and when. This flexibility, or as some might say fecklessness and lack of responsibility, is an increasing phenomenon. In one way it is parasitic because it takes advantage of those who pay for and actively maintain congregations. But in another it underscores the zeitgeist of freedom to choose and move between different examples of Jewish experience in search of what succeeds in attracting them.

There are in addition communities that experiment themselves, with giving greater opportunities to women both to participate and to take on roles as educators and service providers, different minyanim expressing different styles and methods of worship, unique characteristics, praying at different times and appealing to different age groups. There are new kinds of minyanim that come under different rubrics, women’s services, partnership minyanim, and if one moves further away from the traditional wing, egalitarian and experimental. At the same time, Reform services have tended to become more traditional than they were. The fact is that Jewish religious life beyond established structures is very vibrant and dynamic. As old communities die, new ones spring up. Nowhere is this dynamism more in evidence than in Israel, where the richness of its spiritual life in both religious and secular communities and a renewed interest in traditional texts and Torah study is often inspiring. Critical mass is of course essential for variety, and nowhere in the Diaspora nowadays is critical mass anywhere as strong and rich as it is in Israel. There is greater freedom of religious expression within the Orthodox Jewish world than in the past.

Conclusion

The past 50 years have been exciting and have seen the expansion of committed Jewry. But the challenges have increased, too. Not the least is the alienation of the majority of the Jewish population from its commitment to its religious roots. On the other hand, the opportunities to return to them are greater and more varied than ever before.
One might argue that in Judaism, both during Temple times and later, there has been a creative tension between community and individuality, between sanctuary and home, between prayer and study. The commandments fall into categories of communal and private, as they do between those commands designed to reinforce one’s relationship with Heaven and those with mankind. Just as one is often torn between obligations to family and those to community, so one is often torn between individuality and conformity. These tensions are rarely completely reconciled. They coexist and the challenge is up to us to find room for both.

The era we are living through is one in which individuality has never been more fashionable and stronger, and this has inevitably led to increased tension with community and conformity, particularly in one’s younger years. The pressures of secular society are so great and all-pervasive that one can readily understand the protective sentiment that only in a ghetto of the like-minded and like-behaving can one survive with one’s own culture or religion intact. But for those who cannot or will not conform, the options now are so much greater than they ever were to find somewhere where one can feel at ease with one’s Judaism and with oneself. That to me is the most important feature of religious change I have witnessed over the past 50 years.