National Scholar Updates

In her landmark book, The Feminine Mystique, Betty Friedan asserted that “American women no longer know who they are. They are sorely in need of a new image to help them find their identity.” Originally published in 1963, her book became a rallying cry for the feminist movement. Friedan lamented the fact that women were expected (and expected themselves) to model themselves after the stereotypical image of mother and home-maker; that their self-image was vastly influenced by images of women in glossy magazines and the movies.

Friedan argued that woman needed to become equal partners in society—socially, politically and economically. “There is only one way for women to reach full human potential—by participating in the mainstream of society, by exercising their own voice in all the decisions shaping that society. For women to have full identity and freedom, they must have economic independence….Equality and human dignity are not possible for women if they are not able to earn.”

The Feminine Mystique played an important role in triggering a re-evaluation of the role of women in society. The feminist movement has achieved monumental changes since 1963. When the book was reprinted in the 1990s, Friedan wrote an epilogue in which she rejoiced over past progress, and foresaw an era of true equality. “We may now begin to glimpse the new human possibilities when women and men are finally free to be themselves, know each other for who they really are, and define the terms and measures of success, failure, joy, triumph, power, and the common good, together” (from her epilogue, written April 1997).

Friedan’s hopes are reminiscent of Martin Buber’s philosophy of “I and Thou.” Ideally, people should relate to each other as full, dignified human beings. Relationships between an I and a Thou are characterized by respect, sympathy, sensitivity. When relationships operate on an I-It level, the “It” is reduced to an object, someone whose full humanity is not encountered.

When it comes to relationships between men and women, things can become complicated. Regardless of the ideals of human equality and mutual respect, we also have to deal with the reality of sexuality. Human beings are not pure spiritual beings; physical appearance and sexual drives must be taken into account.

Some communities/societies attempt to curtail male/female relationships so as to avoid sexual improprieties and abuses. The most extreme example of this is in Muslim societies where women are expected to stay out of the public domain to the extent possible, and only to appear in public while totally covered from head to toe, including the face (except for the eyes). Less extreme examples can be found in other communities—including the so-called ultra-Orthodox Jewish community—where women are restricted to wearing clothing deemed to be modest by their rabbinic leaders and are limited in their social interactions with men. The goal is not to foster equal and dignified relationships between men and women, but to keep the genders as separated as possible for fear of falling into temptation and sin.

On the other extreme are societies that foster sexual promiscuity, where women and men interact according to their own feelings rather than by norms of religious modesty. While such societies ostensibly foster equality between men and women, the ubiquitous sexual component can tend to foster relationships of the I-It mode, rather than the I-Thou ideal. Since the bars of religious or cultural morality have been dropped, men and women may see each other as potential objects of sexual pleasure rather than as dignified human beings.

Betty Friedan believed that our society was beginning “to glimpse the new human possibilities when women and men are finally free to be themselves, know each other for who they really are.”  But is this really so? With all the permissiveness and freedom in our society, have relationships between men and women actually become I-Thou?

Although it is argued (correctly) that women should be viewed as human beings rather than as objects, in fact much of our popular culture promotes women as objects of sexual attraction. Female models, movie stars, and television personalities often are dressed in highly provocative clothing. Even women reporters on local television news programs wear sleeveless, or low-neckline, or overly tight clothing. Whether they are required to dress in this fashion, or whether they do so on their own, the fact is that women present themselves in immodest dress (or undress!).  The goal—stated or unstated—seems to be: I need to be sexually attractive.

Popular women’s fashions promote the view of women as objects. Women’s clothing is often too revealing or too tightly fit to be classified as modest. Why do women wear such clothes? Why do designers keep designing such clothes, unless there is a market for them?

For men and women to operate on an I-Thou basis rather than an I-It basis, we need to avoid the extremes of prudery and promiscuity. We need to focus on the nature of modesty--tseniut.

Tseniut is not simply a system of prevention from sin. Rather, it encompasses a positive philosophy relating to the nature of human beings. While acknowledging the power of human sexuality, tseniut teaches that human beings are more than mere sexual beings.  By insisting on modest dress and behavior, tseniut promotes a framework for human relationships that transcends the physical/sexual aspects.

Non-tseniut behavior signals a person’s desire to be seen as an object of sexual attraction. When people dress provocatively, what they are communicating is: notice me, I crave your attention, please don’t ignore me. Underlying this non-vocalized plea is the feeling that one will not be noticed unless prepared to become an object of attention or unless one conforms to the prevailing fashions, even if those fashions violate one’s sense of decency and propriety.

It is normal and natural for people to want to appear pleasing to others. That is why they spend so much time and money on clothing and grooming. Dressing nicely, neatly, and modestly is a sign of self-respect as well as respect for others. If, though, one specifically dresses or behaves in a manner that is aimed at arousing sexual attention, this crosses into the non-tseniut mode. One has chosen to be an It rather than a Thou.

Human beings all have feelings of insecurity; we need to be needed, appreciated, and loved. Although these tendencies are often exacerbated in teenagers, they continue to exist throughout adult life. Exhibitionism is a short-cut to gaining the attention—and hopefully the affection—of others. Yet, underneath the veneer of showiness is a layer of essential insecurity, loneliness, and dissatisfaction with self. Exhibitionism may gain the attention of others, but it does not gain their respect and love.

Tseniut should be understood as a framework for maintaining our human dignity. It teaches us to treat ourselves and others as valuable human beings, not as objects. Non-tseniut behavior and dress serve to diminish our full humanity, reducing us to the level of objects of sexuality. Tseniut is a manifestation of holiness. Exhibitionism is a manifestation of crudeness and feelings of insecurity.

Genuine modesty avoids the extremes of prudery or promiscuity. It fosters self-respect and respect for others. In a real sense, tseniut is not “old fashioned;” it is the avant garde of those who wish to live as dignified human beings.

(For a fuller discussion of tseniut, please see my article, “A Modesty Proposal: Rethinking Tseniut,” on the website of jewishideas.org   The direct link is: https://www.jewishideas.org/article/modesty-proposal-rethinking-tseniut)

Different Responses to New Realities

Beginning in the nineteenth century, cataclysmic changes affected Jewish communal life. Secularization, the separation of Church and State, emancipation, and the institution of civil marriage undermined the authority of Jewish communal leadership and led to a shift from a generally traditional society to one where the majority of Jews no longer observed all of halakhah and many chose social assimilation and (increasingly) intermarriage. The latter phenomenon gave rise to the following question: If a Jew has chosen to marry (or to live with) a non-Jewish partner, and that partner applies to convert, what is the proper rabbinic response? While there is a wide range of opinions among rabbis responding to this question, they can be divided broadly into a more lenient position and a more restrictive position. This chapter will explore the central arguments of each side.

The basic issues on which the two sides disagree are as follows:

1. If the non-Jewish partner of a Jew applies to convert, is her motivation for the sake of marriage (rather than sincere religious motivation)? If so, are we required to reject this application out of hand?
2. If we agree to accept such spouses for conversion, are we not thereby implicitly condoning and even encouraging intermarriage?
3. If a Jew has chosen a non-Jewish spouse, this frequently reflects that he or she herself holds a cavalier attitude toward observance of mitzvot. It stands to reason that we can expect no more from the prospective convert. If so, then:
   
   1. Should we agree to accept a convert who likely will not be religiously observant?
   2. If halakhah regards “acceptance of the commandments” as a crucial part of the conversion ceremony, can such a candidate fulfill that requirement? If not, then even if we want to accept such a person it is a waste of time, for without acceptance of the commandments conversion can never be valid.

Several German rabbis, including Yaakov Ettlinger, Samson Raphael Hirsch, and Azriel Hildesheimer, opposed performing conversions in cases of intermarriage. They maintained that in the era when Rambam permitted such a conversion (see previous chapter), the Jewish community was generally observant. Back then, conversion to Judaism necessarily meant entry into an observant Jewish community. However, one no longer could presume that a convert would join an observant community, since the majority of born Jews no longer fully observe halakhah. These rabbis maintained that it is contrary to Torah to accept a convert who will be non-observant. Therefore, Rambam’s ruling is not relevant as a precedent in the modern era.

Similarly, some rabbis ruled that a mohel should not circumcise a boy born from a Jewish father and a non-Jewish mother, since there was little likelihood that the child would grow up in an observant Jewish home. Thus, even if the child were later to complete the conversion process by immersion in a mikvah, he would at most become a non-observant Jew, whom (as noted above) Torah does not want as a convert. In addition to their halakhic analysis, this group of rabbis believed that a strict policy against conversion and circumcision of sons born through intermarriage would deter others from intermarrying.[1]

            Other rabbis disagreed with this analysis. They believed that a Bet Din is obligated to do whatever it can to avoid an intermarriage and that this can be achieved by converting the non-Jewish partner. Moreover, the Bet Din also has a responsibility to ensure a Jewish future for the children of intermarried couples. Rabbis Zvi Hirsch Kalischer and Marcus Horowitz insisted that a mohel should circumcise a boy born from a Jewish father and non-Jewish mother, since he is still of Jewish stock, zera Yisrael. The Bet Din has a responsibility to keep such children closer to Judaism and the observant community, and perhaps one day they would come to accept Judaism more fully. These rabbis maintained that a Bet Din should view a father’s desire to circumcise his son as an act of sincere commitment, since he did not have to request this circumcision at all.

            In this spirit, Rabbi David Zvi Hoffmann ruled that if a couple is civilly married and the non-Jewish spouse comes to a Bet Din to convert, this should not be considered a conversion “for the sake of marriage” since they already live as a married couple and therefore have no ulterior motive for conversion. Aside from the responsibility to do everything it can to prevent intermarriage, the Bet Din also has a responsibility to the children of these couples, and can help in their religious development by giving them two Jewish parents.

Rabbi Hoffmann understood that this situation was not ideal, but considered performing the conversion as the lesser of two problems. Rabbi Hoffmann also wanted prospective converts to avoid going to Reform rabbis, as the converts (and many others) would mistakenly think that they are Jewish even while not having undergone a halakhic conversion. Within his permissive ruling, Rabbi Hoffmann maintained that the non-Jewish partner must commit to three pillars of mitzvah observance: Shabbat, kashrut, and the laws of family purity.[2]

One of the central debates between the two positions revolved around the requirement of conversion “for the sake of Heaven” (Gerim 1:3). The permissive side maintained that any choice made by the prospective convert not for personal gain should be considered “for the sake of Heaven.” A civilly married couple, then, could be considered sincere since they did not need to come to a Bet Din in order to be married. Rabbi Yehiel Yaakov Weinberg agreed with Rabbi David Zvi Hoffmann, that if a couple already lives together, a Bet Din may view their voluntarily coming to the Bet Din to mean that the conversion was not for ulterior motives. Others, including Rabbi Shlomo Kluger and Rabbi Ovadiah Yosef, maintained this view, as well.[3]

Additionally, many who permitted such conversions did so in order to avoid the greater problem of intermarriage. A lenient interpretation of the rules of conversion was the preferable choice. Finally, the permissive side insisted that a Bet Din has a responsibility to work proactively to help people avoid living in sinful relationships.

The restrictive side disagreed. True, such a conversion may not be for the sake of marriage, but it also is not a sincere conversion for the sake of heaven. The Jewish partner, for example, may want his or her non-Jewish spouse to convert for social and communal acceptance. The restrictive side also maintained that it is not the responsibility of a Bet Din to proactively bend the rules of conversion to help sinners. Additionally, they argued, of what benefit would it be to convert a non-Jewish spouse if the couple likely will remain non-observant? Similarly, of what benefit would it be to the child of an intermarriage, who was unlikely to grow up observant? Such individuals are better off as non-Jews, since they will not be culpable for violating the Torah. Better remain a Gentile than become a non-observant Jew![4]

Toward the end of the nineteenth century, some rabbis pushed the restrictive position further and maintained that absent a fully sincere and heartfelt commitment to observing all of the mitzvot at the time of conversion, conversions are not valid even after the fact, even if performed by an Orthodox Bet Din. Professors Avi Sagi and Zvi Zohar maintain that Rabbi Yitzhak Schmelkes was the first to state and defend this position (in 1876).[5] Two leading exponents of this position were Rabbis Mordechai Yaakov Breisch and Moshe Feinstein.[6]

One of the leading exponents of the permissive position in the twentieth century was Rabbi Benzion Uziel, the Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Israel at the time of the founding of the State. Rabbi Uziel maintained that many mixed couples exist, whether just living together or married under civil law, and the Bet Din has a responsibility to change this situation for the better if it is able to do so. He therefore ruled that if a couple already is civilly married, or they are certainly going to get civilly married, a Bet Din should perform the conversion to create a marriage in which both partners are Jewish.

Rabbi Uziel understood the obligation of a Bet Din to inform a prospective convert of some mitzvot prior to conversion (Yevamot 47a–b) to mean that the convert is required to be informed that a central aspect of Judaism is commitment to Torah and mitzvot, and that Jews are held responsible by God to observe them. However, the halakhah does not demand that a convert commit to observing all of the mitzvot, but rather only to understand that he or she is responsible to observe the mitzvot.

            Rabbi Uziel also invoked Rambam’s responsum (#211, discussed in the previous chapter), where he permitted the less-than-ideal conversion of a Christian maid who had an affair with a Jewish man so that they could get married. Similarly, argued Rabbi Uziel, many circumstances in the modern period fit this less-than-ideal status, where a Bet Din must choose the lesser of the two evils.

            Rabbi Uziel also insisted that the Bet Din has a responsibility to the children of intermarried couples. If the father but not the mother is Jewish then the child is of Jewish stock, zera Yisrael, and should be converted so as to become halakhically Jewish. If the mother is Jewish, then the child is Jewish. If that child’s non-Jewish father wants to convert, the Bet Din should accept him so that the child grows up in a unified Jewish home with two Jewish parents.

Not only is the Bet Din permitted to do such a conversion, but it is obligated to do so in order to progress from a situation of intermarriage to one in which the entire family is Jewish. Rabbi Uziel stressed that the Bet Din first must attempt to break up such an intermarriage, but if it could not dissuade the couple, the conversion should take place.[7]

A prolific contemporary writer on conversion, Rabbi Chaim Amsellem, maintains that there are particular halakhic grounds for leniency where a prospective convert is of Jewish stock, zera Yisrael. He maintains that some actual religious commitment is required of a convert, but that is not tantamount to an acceptance to observe the entire Torah. Rather, commitment to have some semblance of a Shabbat and holidays, as well as a belief in one God and an abandonment of previous religious affiliations, is sufficient.[8]

Current Realities

With the creation of the State of Israel, a new identity was possible as people living in Israel could cast their lot with the fate of the Jewish people, without adopting any meaningful religious lifestyle.[9] Ashkenazic Chief Rabbis Yitzhak Herzog and Isser Zalman Unterman both maintained stringent policies for conversions that occur outside of Israel. However, they believed that if an intermarried couple wanted to convert to make aliyah under the Law of Return, and it was safe to live in the country where they currently resided (so that they did not have the ulterior motive of converting to attain physical safety by moving to Israel), then their adoption of the Zionist dream is to be considered casting their lot with the Jewish people.[10]

With hundreds of thousands of people from the former Soviet Union living in Israel today who are not halakhically Jewish, several religious Zionist rabbis maintain that a lenient policy is required. Rabbi Yoel Bin-Nun has argued that there should be a mass conversion ceremony. Rabbi Yigal Ariel similarly maintains that their living in Israel fulfills the halakhic requirement to accept Jewish peoplehood.[11]

Similarly, the rampant rate of intermarriage throughout the Diaspora has led several rabbis to adopt the lenient ruling on conversion so that they can prevent as many instances of intermarriage as possible. These rabbis also attempt to convert the children of mixed marriages when possible.

In contrast, the restrictive position maintains that every convert must be judged on a case-by-case basis as an individual, and each one must demonstrate a full and sincere personal commitment to halakhah and Jewish belief. Without such commitment at the time of the conversion, the conversion is invalid even post-facto.

Rabbis who espouse the restrictive position maintain that a Bet Din should welcome anyone who fully accepts the Torah’s religious standards, and everyone else is better off remaining non-Jewish. People who sin through intermarriage and assimilation are not the responsibility of a Bet Din, since they brought these problems onto themselves by making sinful choices.

Summary of the Major Issues

            There is a wide range of definitions assigned to “acceptance of mitzvot,” including the following: (1) The convert agrees to fulfill the ritual of conversion, circumcision, and mikvah (Ramban, Tosafot).[12] (2) The convert must give verbal assent to observe the mitzvot (Rabbis Hayyim Ozer Grodzinski, Abraham Isaac Kook). (3) The convert needs to understand that a central aspect of Judaism is commitment to Torah and mitzvot, and Jews are held responsible by God to observe them (Rabbis Raphael Aharon ben Shimon, Benzion Uziel). (4) The convert must commit to observe all mitzvot. If, at the time of the conversion, the convert said untruthfully that he or she was committed, then the conversion is invalid even post-facto (Rabbis Yitzhak Schmelkes, Mordechai Breisch, Moshe Feinstein).[13]

            There also is debate over the meaning of conversion “for the sake of heaven”: (1) As long as there is no tangible benefit for the convert, a conversion can be considered to be for the sake of heaven. Therefore, an intermarried couple that approaches a Bet Din so that the non-Jewish partner can convert is accepted, since they already are living as a married couple. (2) Some concede that such conversions are less than ideal, but it remains good policy for the Bet Din to accept such converts to avoid the greater evils of intermarriage, mixed-religion households, and to keep the children of intermarriages closer to the Torah. (3) Conversion for the sake of Heaven requires a full and sincere commitment to God, the Torah, and mitzvah observance.[14]

            There is a fundamental debate regarding the obligation of a Bet Din toward sinners: If the more lenient positions are a compromise with pure halakhah (which they may not be, as we have seen), is it the obligation of the Bet Din to bend the rules to accept the lesser of two evils, or does the Bet Din have no obligation to compromise?

            Intertwined with the purely halakhic debates is a disagreement over the best public policy. Granting that there are strong halakhic opinions on both sides of this debate, what policy best serves the Jewish people? Do hundreds of thousands of people of Jewish stock from the former Soviet Union living in Israel who fight in the Israeli armed forces and marry other born Jews; or the countless couples who either are intermarried or will intermarry, and the children of intermarriages, require the Bet Din to be proactive and as inclusive as possible? Or is it preferable for a Bet Din to be as restrictive as possible toward those who do not fully adopt the ideal beliefs and observant lifestyle of the Torah?

            To summarize, the permissive side has two dimensions: (1) The classical halakhic sources support the permissive side. (2) The classical halakhic sources may not fully support the permissive side at the level of ideal halakhah, but we live in an age where halakhic compromise is preferable to the greater problems that arise by not performing the conversions. The restrictive side, in contrast, insists that the classical halakhic sources do not support the permissive side, and that a Bet Din should not bend any rules to help sinners.

Tragic Recent Development: The Possibility of Annulling a Conversion

Toward the end of the twentieth century, a radical new development took place, as several rabbis began to insist that a conversion can be revoked at any time if the convert demonstrates a lack of halakhic observance.[15] This innovative ruling led to a series of truly dreadful events. In 2006, then Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Israel Shlomo Amar declared that he rejected most Orthodox conversions from abroad. In 2008, Rabbi Avraham Sherman of Israel’s Rabbinical High Court cast doubt on thousands of conversions performed by Rabbi Haim Drukman, who had been the head of the State Conversion Authority in Israel. He also declared Rabbi Drukman to be invalid to serve as a rabbinical judge since Rabbi Drukman disagreed with what Rabbi Sherman maintained was the accepted position in halakhah. In 2009, then Ashkenazic Chief Rabbi of Israel Yona Metzger supported Rabbi Sherman, and insisted that Israel’s Chief Rabbinate has the power to annul any conversion.[16]

The besmirching of the good names of righteous judges who performed the conversions, and the horrific anguish brought upon halakhic converts and their children who are fully and irrevocably Jewish, are absolutely unacceptable. The Talmud debates whether one who oppresses the convert violates 3, 36, or 46 Torah laws (Bava Metzia 59b). Rabbi Yosef Zvi Rimon condemns Rabbi Sherman’s sinful conduct of disqualifying Rabbi Drukman and his court:

Rabbi Haim Drukman is a God-fearing and righteous man. Disagreeing with his judgment is one thing; disqualifying him from being a judge—or even a good Jew, since conversion overseen by three observant Jews is valid—is intolerable. Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein…intimated that Rabbi Sherman’s comments about Rabbi Drukman is a transgression of Torah prohibitions relating to bein adam l’haveiro [interpersonal relationships], which disqualifies him from testifying or serving as a dayan [rabbinical judge].[17]

Returning to the genuine principled debate, rabbis who insist on the restrictive position recognize that many leading halakhists maintain positions against their own.[18] Therefore, they should grant legitimacy post-facto to conversions performed by Orthodox Batei Din who follow the permissive opinions. All converts need to know that once they convert through an Orthodox Bet Din, they are irreversibly Jewish and nobody ever can take that Jewishness away from them or from their children.[19]

The religious establishment is obligated to address cases of intermarriage, children of intermarriages, and people of Jewish ancestry. While halakhists must determine the proper halakhic ruling and policy, it is clear that both sides have great halakhic decisors and strong arguments to support them. The key to Jewish unity, then, is for Batei Din to recognize the rulings of others who follow different halakhic opinions, even when they vigorously disagree with their positions.

            There are fewer people more courageous and beloved than adult converts, who enter under the wings of the Shekhinah, transforming their identity, and identifying with the Jewish people.[20]

            One Midrash states this point beautifully:

God greatly loves the proselytes. To what may this be compared? To a king who had a flock [of sheep and goats].... Once, a deer came in with the flock. He associated with the goats and grazed with them…. The king was told: “A certain deer has joined the flock, and is grazing with them every day.” The king loved him. When he went out into the field, the king gave orders: “Let him have good pasture as he likes; no man shall beat him; take care of him!”… They said to him: “Master! You have so many rams, so many sheep, so many kids—and you say nothing to us about them; but with regard to this deer you instruct us every day!” The king said to them: “The sheep, whether they want to or not, such is their way: to graze in the field all day…. The deer sleep in the desert, and it is not their way to enter into human settlements. Should we not be grateful to this one, who abandoned all the great wide desert where all the animals live, and came to be in our yard?” Similarly, should we not be grateful to the proselyte, who abandoned his family and father’s home and left his people and all peoples of the world, and came to be with us? (Numbers Rabbah 8:2)

When addressing a halakhic question, each posek (halakhic decisor) attempts to arrive at a decision that is objectively true. The posek will study and analyze the available halakhic literature, with the goal of understanding the halakha as clearly and accurately as possible.

At the same time, halakhic literature is characterized by a variety of decisions regarding the same questions. Different posekim arrive at different conclusions—even though they generally rely on the same source literature. Sometimes these differences are based on alternate readings or interpretations of the source texts. Or, one posek may attribute greater authority to certain halakhists, while another may prefer to depend on others. Differences in local conditions, halakhic traditions, educational backgrounds, hashkafa (religious worldview)—these and many other factors may also result in different decisions from different posekim.

The interrelationship of hashkafa and halakha may be illustrated in how two recent posekim—Rabbi Avraham Yitzhak Kook and Rabbi Bentzion Meir Hai Uziel—dealt with issues involving the understanding of the nature of Jewishness.

Rabbi Kook (1865–1935) was born in Latvia and studied at the yeshiva of Volozhin. In 1904, he emigrated to Israel, where he became the Chief Rabbi of Jaffa. In 1919 he was appointed as the Ashkenazic Chief Rabbi of Jerusalem, and in 1921 he became the first Ashkenazic Chief Rabbi of Erets Yisrael. Rabbi Uziel (1880–1953) was born in Jerusalem and studied under the Torah scholars of the city, including his own father, Rabbi Yosef Raphael Uziel, who was the Av Bet Din (chief justice) of the Sephardic community. In 1911, Rabbi Uziel became Chief Rabbi of Jaffa, where he worked closely with Rabbi Kook. In 1921 he became Chief Rabbi of Salonika; in 1923 he returned to Israel to serve as Chief Rabbi of Tel Aviv; and in 1939 he became Rishon leTzion, the Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Erets Yisrael.

Both Rabbi Kook and Rabbi Uziel were strong advocates of religious Zionism. They were outstanding communal leaders, teachers, and scholars. Both were prolific writers who made major contributions in the fields of halakha and hashkafa.

But despite these external similarities, their attitudes toward several vital issues are radically different. Their disparate understandings of the nature of Jewish peoplehood are manifested in a number of their halakhic decisions.

Conversion

Let us begin with a discussion of how they dealt with the question of conversion to Judaism. How does a non-Jew enter the Jewish fold? What is the nature of the Jewishness which the convert accepts?

Rabbi Kook and Rabbi Uziel studied the same talmudic and rabbinic sources. That their rulings were diametrically opposed to each other reflects their different hashkafot, their different understanding of the nature of Jewish peoplehood.

Both dealt with the serious problem of what to do with individuals who requested conversion to Judaism, even when it was believed that the converts were not likely to observe all of the mitzvoth. For the most part, such converts were interested in gerut (conversion) for the sake of marrying a Jewish person, and were not motivated by theological concerns. Obviously, neither Rabbi Kook nor Rabbi Uziel thought that such converts represented the ideal. On the contrary, everyone would agree that it was preferable for converts to choose to join the Jewish people from a belief in the truth of Judaism and a total commitment to observe the mitzvoth. However, a great many converts do not come with these ideal credentials.

Rabbi Kook was adamant in his opposition to accepting converts who did not accept to observe all the mitzvoth. Even if a convert followed the technical procedure for conversion, but lacked the absolute intention to observe the mitzvoth, his conversion is not valid. When the Talmud states (Yebamoth 24b) that kulam gerim hem (“they are all converts”; this passage refers to individuals who converted for the sake of marriage or because of other external factors), this refers only to those who did have the intention to accept the mitzvoth in full. Rabbis who accept for conversion those candidates who come for worldly reasons, but who will not fulfill the mitzvoth, are making an error. Much evil will befall such rabbis. They are guilty of bringing thorns into the house of Israel.

Rabbi Kook argues that rabbis who accept such converts are transgressing the prohibition of lifnei ivver (placing a stumbling block in the path of a blind person; by extension, this prohibition includes acts of misleading others). If the conversions are not halakhically valid, then the rabbis are misleading the Jewish public by calling such individuals Jews when in fact they are not Jewish. Such negligence will lead to many problems, including possible intermarriage. On the other hand, if these individuals are to be considered valid converts, then the rabbis are misleading them by not stressing how they will be subject to punishment for violating the mitzvoth.1

In another Responsum, Rabbi Kook again emphasizes that converts who do not commit themselves to keep the mitzvoth should not be accepted. If unqualified individuals (hedyotot) accepted them, no rabbi should perform weddings for them even after they have been converted in this way. “And happy is the one who stands in the breach to guard the purity of Israel, may a good blessing come to him.”2

For Rabbi Kook, then, the acceptance of mitzvoth is the essential ingredient in Jewishness. One who does not accept to observe the mitzvoth simply cannot become part of the Jewish people, even if he or she were to go through the technical rituals of conversion. And even if one were to find halakhic justification to validate these conversions, we still should not allow such converts to marry Jews.

Rabbi Uziel also wrote a number of Responsa dealing with would-be converts whose commitment to observance of mitzvoth was deficient. While acknowledging that it was most desirable that converts accept all the mitzvoth, Rabbi Uziel noted that in our times many individuals seek conversion for the sake of marriage. Instead of disqualifying such conversions, however, Rabbi Uziel actually encouraged them. He felt that it was necessary for us to be stringent in matters of intermarriage, i.e., we should do everything possible to prevent a situation where a marriage involves a Jew and a non-Jew. If we can convert the non-Jewish partner to Judaism, then we have preserved the wholeness of that family for the Jewish people, and we can hope that their children will be raised as Jews. Given the choice of having an intermarried couple or performing such a conversion, Rabbi Uziel ruled that it is better to perform the conversion. He, of course, believed that rabbis should do everything in their power to break off the projected intermarriage. They should resort to conversion only when it is clear that the couple would not be dissuaded from marriage to each other.3

In another Responsum, Rabbi Uziel explains that the obligation of rabbis is to inform candidates for conversion of some, not all, of the mitzvoth (Yoreh De’ah 268:2). It is impossible for a bet din to know with certainty that any convert will keep all the mitzvoth. Conversion, even initially, does not require that the convert accept to observe all the mitzvoth. Indeed, the procedure of informing a non-Jew about the basic beliefs and mitzvoth is required initially. But if this procedure were not followed, and the non-Jew was converted ritually (circumcision and ritual immersion) without such information, the conversion is valid notwithstanding (Yoreh De’ah 268:2, 12).

Rabbi Uziel concludes that it is permissible—and a mitzvah—to accept such converts, even when it is expected that they would not observe all the mitzvoth. Our hope is that they will come to observe the mitzvoth in the future. We are obligated to give them this opportunity. If they fail to observe the mitzvoth, the iniquity is on their own shoulders, not ours. Rabbi Uziel rejects the argument that since a vast majority of converts do not observe the mitzvoth, we should not accept converts at all. On the contrary, he argues that it is a mitzvah to accept these converts. We are obligated not only to do these conversions to prevent intermarriage, but we have a special responsibility to the children who will be born of these marriages. Since they are of Jewish stock, even if only one parent is Jewish, they should be reclaimed for our people. Rabbi Uziel writes:

"And I fear that if we push them [children] away completely by not accepting their parents for conversion, we shall be brought to judgment and they shall say to us: 'You did not bring back those who were driven away, and those who were lost you did not seek'" (Yehezkel 34:4).4

Whereas Rabbi Kook saw the acceptance of mitzvoth as the sine qua non of entering the Jewish fold, Rabbi Uziel thought it was not an absolute requirement at all. Whereas Rabbi Kook believed that the mitzvoth are the defining feature of the Jewish people, Rabbi Uziel stressed the importance of maintaining the wholeness of the Jewish people, even when the observance of mitzvoth was deficient. The halakhic difference between them can be apprehended on a deeper level if we consider their difference in hashkafa.

The act of conversion, according to Rabbi Kook, requires the convert to join the soul of Kenesset Yisrael (a metaphysical representation of the “congregation of Israel”). This can be accomplished only via total acceptance of the mitzvoth, which are the essence of the Jewish soul. Rabbi Kook sees Kenesset Yisrael as the highest spiritual manifestation of human existence. He propounds a notion found in kabbalah that there is an essential difference between Jews and non-Jews. Rabbi Kook writes:

"The difference between the Jewish soul, its self, its inner desires, aspirations, character and status, and that of all nations, at all their levels, is greater and deeper than the difference between the human soul and the animal soul; between the latter there is merely a quantitative distinction, but between the former an essential qualitative distinction pertains."5

Each Jew is connected spiritually to Kenesset Yisrael through the fulfillment of mitzvoth and the ethical demands of Torah. The nourishment of the Jewish soul “is the study of Torah in all its aspects, which also includes historical study in its fullness, and the observance of the commandments with deep faith illuminated by the light of knowledge and clear awareness.” 6

In stressing the distinctiveness of the Jewish people and its essential difference from all other nations, Rabbi Kook appears to downplay the ethical universalism implicit in the classic Jewish teaching that human beings were created in the image of God. Instead of focusing on the universal spiritual dignity of all people, Rabbi Kook asserts a radical distinction between Israel and the nations.

On the other hand, Rabbi Kook did recognize the existence of select individuals among the nations who can reach great spiritual heights. Whereas the supreme holiness specific to Israel is not shared by the nations, it is possible for individual non-Jews to imbue themselves with the holiness of Torah and to join the people of Israel.7

Rabbi Kook’s hashkafa, thus, plays itself out in the halakhic issue of conversion. For him, a non-Jew needs to undergo a transformation of his soul in order to become part of Kenesset Yisrael. Conversion is not just a matter of following a set of prescribed rules and guidelines; rather, it is an all-encompassing spiritual transformation, possible only for a select few spiritually gifted individuals.

Rabbi Kook’s hashkafa is imbued with mystical elements. Given his understanding of the nature of the Jewish soul, it follows that he takes an elitist position vis-à-vis accepting converts. Only those who are truly qualified spiritually may enter the fold of Israel. To accept converts who are not absolutely committed to mitzvah observance is, for Rabbi Kook, a travesty.

Rabbi Uziel, too, stressed the distinctiveness of the people of Israel. Indeed, his hashkafa is close to Rabbi Kook’s in that he also saw the people of Israel as the ideal model of humanity, embodying the highest form of harmony and spiritual unity.8

Although Rabbi Uziel recognized the distinctiveness of the people of Israel, he did not make the same sharp distinction between Jews and non-Jews as did Rabbi Kook. Rather, Rabbi Uziel stressed the connection between Jews and non-Jews, and the responsibility of Jews to set a good example from which the non-Jewish world can learn.

Rabbi Uziel was critical of those Jews who taught that one’s Jewishness should be a private matter observed in the home, and who said that one should be a “human being” when in public. He rejected such a notion as being absurd, “since Judaism and humanity are connected and attached to each other like a flame and its coal.” The goal of Judaism is to have Jews be the finest possible human beings so that they could influence humanity for the better. Judaism was not a private matter, but was for application in the world at large.9

Rabbi Uziel also rejects the position of those who claimed that Judaism was merely a faith. Clearly, the people of Israel constitute a nation with a distinctive national character. Neither the Torah nor our sages ever divorced Jewish faith from Jewish peoplehood.10

Rabbi Uziel rejects the notion that Judaism could survive only if Jews isolated themselves from the rest of society. Those who limited Jewish life to synagogues and study halls thereby were constricting the real message of Judaism. Rabbi Uziel argues that the Torah was quite capable of confronting all cultures and all peoples, without needing to surrender or hide. A living culture has no fear of borrowing and integrating concepts from other cultures, and it can do so without losing its own identity. Jews can learn from the non-Jewish world and still remain faithful to their own distinctive mission of holiness and righteousness. Moreover, as a living culture, Judaism has a message to teach others as well. To constrict Judaism into a spiritual and intellectual ghetto is not true to the mission of Israel. The Torah contains within it a full worldview on the individual and the nation; therefore it is our obligation to recognize and teach our spiritual ideal, and to try to increase our spiritual influence on humanity as a whole.11

For Rabbi Uziel, then, the distinctiveness of the Jewish people is not seen as a mystical concept which separates Jews ontologically from non-Jews. Rather, the Jewish people have a positive responsibility of reaching out to the non-Jewish world, to bring them closer to the religious ideals of Judaism.

This hashkafa manifests itself in a greater tolerance and openness when it comes to the halakhic question of conversion. Certainly, it would be best if all Jews and all converts to Judaism observed the mitzvoth in full. But since we do not live in an ideal world, we need to strive to attain the best results possible. Our first concern has to be to maintain the integrity of the Jewish people, Jewish families. Non-Jews who wish to become part of the Jewish people are thereby testifying that they wish to come closer to our teachings and traditions. Since Jews and non-Jews are all created in the image of God, the conversion process does not entail an absolute spiritual transformation of the convert’s soul, but rather a pragmatic decision to join the Jewish people and to come closer to the ideals and teachings of the Torah. This hashkafa gives greater leeway to the rabbis who must make specific decisions regarding conversion, based on the particular situation of each case. Universalism and pragmatism on behalf of the Jewish people, rather than mystical and metaphysical considerations, should guide the conversion process.

Autopsies

The hashkafic difference between Rabbi Kook and Rabbi Uziel concerning the nature of Jewishness also may be demonstrated in another halakhic area: autopsies. In 1931, Rabbi Kook was asked whether it was permissible to perform autopsies as part of the training of doctors in medical schools. With the expanding Jewish settlement in the land of Israel, there certainly was a need to train Jewish doctors.
Medical training entailed autopsies.

Rabbi Kook ruled that disgracing a dead body (nivul haMet) is a prohibition unique to the Jewish people, since the Almighty commanded us to maintain the holiness of the body. He then went on to say that there is a sharp difference between Jews and non-Jews with regard to their bodies. Non-Jews consider their bodies only as biological structures. They eat whatever they wish, without restriction. They have no reason to be concerned with the issue of disgracing the dead body, so long as the autopsy was done for a reasonable purpose such as medical study. Rabbi Kook, therefore, recommended that the medical programs purchase non-Jewish bodies for the purpose of scientific research. He then stated that the whole category of disgrace of the dead body stems from the fact that humans were created in the image of God. But this image of God is manifested particularly in Jews due to the holiness of the Torah.12 The Jewish attachment to Torah and mitzvoth, thus, not only characterizes the Jewish soul, but also imparts holiness to the Jewish body.

Rabbi Uziel wrote a lengthy Responsum on the subject of autopsies, although he specified that his Responsum was theoretical rather than a formal legal ruling (leHalakha veLo leMa’aseh). In reviewing the halakhic literature on nivul haMet, Rabbi Uziel concluded that this category applies only when a dead body is treated disrespectfully. Autopsies performed in a respectful manner for the sake of medical knowledge do not constitute, according to Rabbi Uziel, nivul haMet. He points out that there have been many rabbinical sages throughout Jewish history who were also medical doctors. They could not have learned their profession without having performed autopsies. Rabbi Uziel states that “in a situation of great benefit to everyone, where there is an issue of saving lives, we have not found any reason to prohibit [and on the contrary, there are proofs to permit].

Rabbi Uziel considers the question of whether it would be preferable to obtain non-Jewish bodies for the purpose of autopsies. His response is sharp and unequivocal:

"Certainly this should not even be said and more certainly should not be written, since the prohibition of nivul stems from the humiliation caused to all humans. That is to say, it is a humiliation to cause the body of a human—created in the image of God and graced with knowledge and understanding to master and rule over all creation—to be left disgraced and rotting in public. There is no difference between Jews and non-Jews, in the sense that all are created in the image of God. The Jew has no claim to higher status in this regard. If one were to prohibit autopsies, then no autopsies could be performed on any body—Jewish or non-Jewish. The result would be that no doctors could be trained, with a consequent result of an increase in illness, suffering, and death."13

It is clear, then, that Rabbi Kook understood the nature of Jewishness in kabbalistic, metaphysical terms. For him, there is a definite and almost unbridgeable gap between the people of Israel and the non-Jewish nations. This hashkafa influenced his halakhic decisions in the areas of conversion and autopsy. On the other hand, Rabbi Uziel stressed the human quality of the Jewish people, the essential Godliness of all people. His generally universalistic outlook recognized the distinctiveness of the Jewish people. But the distinctiveness of Israel is manifested not by separating Jews absolutely from everyone else; rather, it is shown when Jews serve as models to draw others closer to the ideals of the Torah. This hashkafa pervades his discussions of conversion and autopsy.

Women in Civic Life

Rabbi Kook and Rabbi Uziel also differed in matters pertaining to the role of women in civic life. Their halakhic decisions reflected their different attitudes toward the role of women in a traditional society.

Women’s rights to vote and to be elected to public office were the subject of heated controversy among the Jewish community in the land of Israel in the early part of the twentieth century. In the struggle over women’s suffrage (1918–1921), the rabbinical leadership of the old Yishuv generally opposed extending to women the right to vote and hold public office. In contrast, the Sephardic rabbinic leadership generally favored granting women those rights.

Rabbi Kook, the leading Ashkenazic rabbinic personality in this debate, argued that the Torah tradition relegated civic authority only to men, and that women were to remain in the private, domestic domain. He rejected the “modern innovation” calling for an expansion of women’s role, believing this was a threat to traditional morality and family life.14

Rabbi Uziel, the leading Sephardic voice in this debate, argued that innovation was not necessarily bad. On the contrary, it was fine to innovate where there was no clear Torah prohibition involved. On the question of whether women should be permitted to vote, Rabbi Uziel stated that

"We have not found any clear foundation to forbid. It is unreasonable to deprive women of this human right, since in these elections we choose our leaders and give our elected representatives the power to speak in our names, to arrange the affairs of our settlement and to tax our property. Women, directly or indirectly, accept the authority of those elected, and obey their rulings and communal and national laws.”15

Rabbi Uziel thought it was unjust to expect women to be bound to decisions over which they had no say.
Some opponents of women’s suffrage suggested that women’s understanding was limited, and they were not competent to vote. To this, Rabbi Uziel noted that many men had limited understanding: Should they, too, be deprived of the right to vote? Moreover, Rabbi Uziel wrote that women were endowed with intelligence and sound judgment, no less than men. Experience demonstrates this to be true.

Rabbi Uziel rejected the argument that letting women vote would be a threat to morality and family life. This is a baseless claim and should carry no weight in this debate. One opponent thought that women should be excluded from voting or holding office, based on women’s status in biblical times. Rabbi Uziel brushed this objection aside, noting that it had no bearing on the question at hand. Women, as well as men, were created in God’s image. They had a basic right to be able to vote for those who would have authority to pass laws which would affect them. Not only was there no prohibition to women’s suffrage, but depriving women of this right would be unjust and would cause them humiliation and pain.

Having concluded that women had the right to vote, Rabbi Uziel then turned to the question of whether women had the right to be elected to public office. Halakhic literature includes the notion that women should not hold positions of authority over men. After analyzing these sources carefully,
Rabbi Uziel found that there was no objection to women being in positions of authority—if the community willingly accepted them in these offices. Therefore, women who were elected to office exert authority on the basis of communal approval. Rabbi Uziel stated that although men and women would be sitting together during the public deliberations, this was no breach of modesty or morality. These were not social events, but serious discussions and debates in which participants would participate with all due propriety.

In another Responsum, Rabbi Uziel offered halakhic grounds to allow women to serve as civil judges, as long as the community accepted their authority to judge. He did not personally think it was a good idea for women to serve as judges because of their innately compassionate natures, but he presented the halakhic justification for them to be judges.16

In presenting the opinions and decisions of Rabbi Kook and Rabbi Uziel, it has not been our purpose to determine who is right or who is wrong, or if both are right—ellu veEllu divrei Elokim hayyim (“both positions are acceptable in the eyes of God”). Rather, it has been our purpose to illustrate the interrelationship between hashkafa and halakha. The philosophy and worldview of a posek are not only reflected in halakhic decisions—they help shape those halakhic decisions.

Notes
1. Da’at Kohen, Jerusalem, 5745, no. 154. The discussion on conversion and autopsies is drawn from my article, “A Discussion of the Nature of Jewishness in the Teachings of Rabbi Kook and Rabbi Uziel,” in Seeking Good, Speaking Peace: Collected Essays of Rabbi Marc D. Angel, edited by Rabbi Hayyim Angel, Ktav, Hoboken, 1994, pp. 112–123.
2. Ibid., no. 155.
3. Mishpetei Uziel, Jerusalem, 5724, no. 18.
4. Ibid., no. 20. For a discussion of Rabbi Uziel’s rulings on conversion, see my article, “Another Halakhic Approach to Conversions,” Tradition, 12 (Winter–Spring 1972), 107–113.
5. Orot, Jerusalem, 5745, p. 156. See the article by Rabbi Yoel Ben-Nun, “Nationalism, Humanity and Kenesset Yisrael,” in The World of Ray Kook’s Thought, published by the Avi Chai Foundation, New York, 1991, pp. 210 f.
6. Orot, p. 145; Rabbi Yoel Ben-Nun’s article, p. 224.
7. Rabbi Yoel Ben-Nun’s article, p. 227.
8. A series of articles by Nissim Yosha, under the title “Yahid ve Umah,” appeared in the journal ba-Ma ‘arakhah, nos. 300–306, dealing with Rabbi Uziel’s understanding of Jewish peoplehood. See also my book, Voices in Exile, Ktav, Hoboken, 1991, pp. 202 f.
9. Hegyonei Uziel, vol. 2, Jerusalem, 5714, p. 122.
10. Ibid.
11. Ibid., p. 125
12. Da’at Kohen, no. 199.
13. Piskei Uziel, Jerusalem 5737, no. 32, especially pp. 178-179.
14. Ma’amarei ha-RaAy’aH, Jerusalem, 1984, pp. 189-194. See Zvi Zohar’s article, “Two Halakhic Positions on Women’s Suffrage,” pp. 119-133, in Sephardi and Middle Eastern Jewries, ed. Harvey E. Goldberg, Indiana University Press, Bloomington, 1996. See also the discussion in my book, Loving Truth and Peace: The Grand Religious Worldview of Rabbi Benzion Uziel, Jason Aronson, Northvale, 1999, pp. 204f.
15. Piskei Uziel, Mossad haRav Kook, Jerusalem, 5737, no. 44.
16. Ibid., no 43.

What does it mean to say that the State of Israel is the “State of the Jews” or, more accurately, the “Jewish State”? The State’s Declaration of Independence defines it as a “Jewish State.” It goes on to promise that “it will be based on freedom, justice and peace as envisaged by the prophets of Israel,” “will ensure complete equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants irrespective of religion, race, or sex,” and “guarantee freedom of religion, conscience, language, education, and culture.” I read these words as meaning: Since our State is a Jewish state based on the vision of our Prophets, it guarantees liberty and equality to all its citizens. In other words, the Jewishness of the State guarantees its liberal democratic commitment. Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Amos mean democracy.

Israel is the State of all its citizens, Jews and non-Jews. It is thus awkward to speak of it as “the State of the Jews,” for this phrase may be misconstrued to mean that a Jew in Brooklyn or Antwerp is more of an Israeli than a Muslim in Kafr Qara, a Christian in Nazareth, or a Druze in Daliyat al-Karmel. The phrase could be justified by saying that it means only that all Jews should consider Israel to be their cultural center, as it is written “for out of Zion shall go forth the Law, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem” (Isaiah 2:3). Nonetheless, it is less confusing to speak of a “Jewish State,” as did the Declaration of Independence. Moreover, the State is constitutionally defined as “Jewish” in its Basic Laws (Human Dignity and Liberty, 1992; Freedom of Occupation, 1994; cf. The Knesset, amendment, 1985). But in what sense is it Jewish?

In terms of numbers, Israel today has almost 8 million citizens, roughly three-quarters of whom are Jewish. If one includes the Arabs living in Judea, Samaria, the Golan Heights, and the Gaza Strip, then Israel has almost 12 million subjects, but only about half are Jewish. It goes without saying that if Israel loses its Jewish majority, it will be difficult for it to remain a Jewish State in any meaningful sense. This demographic consideration will have to be taken into account when Israel negotiates its permanent borders with its neighbors. However, I am not concerned here with demography, but with content. In what respects should the State privilege or advance Jewish content?

Certainly the State’s laws must not discriminate in any way between Jew and non-Jew, since the Declaration of Independence guarantees “complete equality” to all citizens. The Law of Return (1950) might be considered an exception to this. However, it does not discriminate between citizens but between applicants for citizenship. Moreover, the Declaration explicitly promises that the State is “open to Jewish immigration.” That promise had at the time of Israel’s birth a vital significance for stateless Holocaust refugees who could then enter the Land as free and enfranchised citizens. Had the State been proclaimed only one decade earlier, who knows how many Jews could have been rescued from the Topheth?

It cannot be overemphasized that the principle of the equality of citizens in the State of Israel is not a grudging compromise that Judaism has made with modern secular ideologies, but it derives from within Judaism—from the vision of its Prophets. Indeed, in the years before the establishment of the State, leading rabbinic authorities, including the illustrious Chief Rabbis Ben-Zion Meir Hai Uziel and Isaac Halevi Herzog, planned for the future Jewish State to be governed in accordance with Jewish law, and ruled that the halakha ensures the equality of all citizens (see, for example, Rabbi Uziel, Mishpetei Uziel, Hoshen Mishpat, 1940, no. 17; Rabbi Herzog, “Rights of Minorities according to Halakhah,” Tehumin 2 [1981], pp. 169–179).

Unfortunately, the principle of equality has not always been carefully guarded by Israel's Knesset and Supreme Court, especially in the past few years. One example of an infringement upon the principle of equality is the Knesset’s legislation of Hatikvah as the national anthem of Israel in 2004. This stirring poem, written by Naphtali Herz Imber in 1877 (with later revisions by him and others) and put to music by Samuel Cohen in 1888, has been the beloved anthem of the Zionist movement since its early days. It speaks of the age-old yearning of the "soul of the Jew" (nefesh Yehudi) for Zion, and proclaims the Jewish people's desire to be a "free nation in our Land" (`am hofshi beArtsenu). As the anthem of the Zionist movement, it was a superb choice. However, it is not appropriate as the national anthem of the State of Israel, since non-Jewish citizens lack the "soul of the Jew." Even though Hatikvah had always functioned as the Israeli national anthem de facto, its status was not made official until 2004. There had been serious objections to it because of its exclusionary nature and also for other reasons (for example, it’s too secular, too Ashkenazi, and simply anachronistic in speaking of “the hope” of a stateless people). Many alternatives have been suggested to replace it as Israel’s national anthem—including biblical texts, medieval poems by Rabbi Judah Halevi and others, and modern poems by Bialik, Tchernichovsky, Naomi Shemer, and others. It has also been suggested that the melody of Hatikvah be retained but new words substituted. Hatikvah will always be the cherished anthem of the Zionist movement, but the State of Israel deserves an anthem that can be sung with equal commitment and passion by all its citizens.

To be sure, the Declaration of Independence’s guarantee of “freedom of religion, conscience, language, education, and culture” applies not only to Muslims, Christians, Druze, and other non-Jews, but also to Jews. This means that Jewish religious coercion is unacceptable, and Jews may freely pursue all brands of Judaism: Orthodox, Ultra-Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, Reconstructionist, and the sundry forms of Atheism, Agnosticism, and Secularism. In this connection, it should be mentioned that Israel’s laws concerning personal status (marriage, divorce, conversion, and so forth), which derive from the old Ottoman millet system, are very problematic, especially as interpreted by a Chief Rabbinate that is increasingly estranged from the people. Rulings of Israeli Rabbinical Courts are often discriminatory against women, converts, and the non-Orthodox. These laws are in need of revision.

The rejection of religious coercion is fundamental to the Zionist project. Zionism, from its beginning, was a political movement, not a religious one. It has always been open to religious and non-religious alike. It is a project of the entire Jewish people, including all groups and sectors, all ideologies and all philosophies, all theologies, and all heresies. Rabbi Isaac Jacob Reines, the visionary founder of the Mizrahi faction of Zionism in 1902, explained to his fellow religionists how it was possible that the movement’s leader, Theodor Herzl, was not religious. He begins by noting that the great Jewish leaders of yore were all distinguished by their holiness and piety, and then writes: “Yet here we see a political man who has not gone out to meditate in the deserts or forests, who has not sanctified himself by ablutions of the body, who does not adorn himself with prayer shawl and phylacteries, who does not ponder over the divine Torah, who does not afflict his soul by fasting, who has not rolled about in the snow or slept among ants, and who nonetheless is succeeding!” Rabbi Reines asks, “Is this not an astonishing thing?!” And he answers: No, not at all, it is a “very simple thing.” It is simple, he explains, because those previous Jewish leaders were spiritual leaders concerned about spiritual redemption, while Herzl is nothing but a political leader concerned about political redemption.

The Zionist movement, continues Rabbi Reines, is not spiritual but “material, economic, and political.” It is not a spiritual movement of religious Jews but a political movement of all Jews. It may thus have non-religious leaders, since its policies are to be determined wholly in accordance with material, economic, and political considerations, and not in accordance with spiritual genius or messianic faith (Or Hadash `al Zion, X, 2).

In short, in our desire to cultivate the Jewishness of the State of Israel, we must be careful not to do so at the expense of the equality and liberty of its citizens; and we must remember that many citizens are not Jewish, and many of the Jewish citizens are not religious.

I would like now to say some words about three areas in which the Jewish dimension of the State may be beneficially promoted: (1) the Hebrew language, (2) the Hebrew calendar, and (3) Jewish law.

The Hebrew Language

The revival of Hebrew as the primary spoken language in the Land of Israel is an amazing phenomenon. Israeli children grow up today speaking the language of the Prophets and Sages. They read the Hebrew Bible with a naturalness that is impossible even for learned rabbis in the Diaspora. The treasures of classical Jewish literature are accessible to them in a way they were not accessible to their ancestors who were not native Hebrew speakers. It may be said, with only a modicum of exaggeration, that the most Jewish thing about the State of Israel is its use of the Hebrew tongue.
However, mention of the Jewishness of Israeli Hebrew raises a serious question; for contemporary Israeli Hebrew is every day moving further and further away from its biblical, rabbinic, and medieval roots. I just wrote that Israeli children read the Bible in a natural way and the Jewish classics are open before them. While this is still true, it was truer in the past, and becoming less and less true all the time.

Maimonides taught us that the principle for determining correct usage in any language is the practice of its native speakers. Not the grammarians but the native speakers are the authorities on what constitutes proper usage (Commentary on the Mishnah, Terumot 1:1). Correct Hebrew is thus determined by its native speakers, the Israelis; and the language of the native speakers is obviously influenced by the speech they have heard and the literature to which they have been exposed. Israelis who have been educated on classical Hebrew literature will speak a Hebrew that is connected to that literature, while those who have not been educated on it will speak a Hebrew disconnected from its roots.

I have been teaching in Israel at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem since 1977, when I moved to Israel from North America. Over the years, I have noticed a steep decline in the familiarity of my students with the Hebrew Bible. This decline reflects the progressive neglect of biblical studies in Israeli schools. In response to the dramatic erosion of the ability of young Israelis to comprehend the Hebrew Bible, there is now being published in Israel a “translation” of the Bible into “Israeli Hebrew” by the veteran educator Avraham Ahuvia. The “translation” is known as Tanakh Ram, and thus far the Pentateuch (2008) and Major Prophets (2011) have appeared. One may debate the pedagogic value of Ahuvia’s “translation,” but it cannot be denied that contemporary Israeli Hebrew is undergoing a process of disengagement from classical Hebrew. It is, in other words, undergoing a process of disengagement from Judaism.

I am convinced that contemporary Israeli Hebrew, i.e., what is sometimes called “tzabbarit” or, in the term coined by the poet Avot Yeshurun, “Tel-Avivrit,” is still essentially the same language as biblical, rabbinic, and medieval Hebrew. One can still today see an Israeli child pick up a Hebrew Bible and read it fluently and joyfully. I believe the regrettable process of disengagement of Israeli Hebrew from its historic sources can be reversed. All that is needed is a return—even a partial return—to the old Israeli educational ethos, which gave priority to the teaching of the Hebrew Bible and other classical Hebrew texts. Needless to say, I am not talking about theology or ideology, but literature. I am not talking about teaching “Judaism” or “Zionism,” but Hebrew and its literature. I’m talking about language.

It is the native speakers, according to Maimonides’ principle, who determine the nature of a language. If Israeli children are given a solid education in classical Jewish literature, then their Israeli Hebrew—no matter how vibrant and innovative— will remain Hebrew, that is, it will remain Jewish; and few of them will want a crutch like Tanakh Ram.

The Hebrew Calendar

The public use of the Hebrew calendar in the State of Israel is important, as it provides a temporal Jewish framework for everyday life in the State. The rhythm of the year is that of the Jewish Sabbaths, feasts, and fasts.

The general public day of rest in Israel is the Jewish Sabbath, not Sunday or Friday (although, according to the 1951 law, Muslims and Christians have the right to observe Friday or Sunday). Spring vacation is every year during the week of Passover. The celebration of the New Year occurs in Tishre, not January. Visitors to Israel on the Christian New Year are often surprised to discover it is a regular workday, and those looking for a gala New Year’s Eve ball must be content if they can find a little Sylvester party. Hardly anyone in Israel knows that the holiday of Sylvester is named for a fourth-century pope, and many mistakenly associate it with the more famous cartoon cat. In any case, according to the Jewish calendar, the New Year celebrates the Creation of the World, not the birth of Jesus or the hijra of Muhammad. In this sense, the Hebrew calendar is more secular than the Christian or Muslim calendars, since it does not commence with birth or deeds of the founder of a religion but with the beginning of the universe.

In Israel today, the Hebrew calendar is generally used alongside the Christian calendar, sometimes one is preferred and sometimes the other. The Muslim calendar is also used in many contexts. In business letters, it is customary to write both the Hebrew and Christian dates. Similarly, books often give both Hebrew and Christian years on the title page. Academic years at Israeli universities are commonly cited by the Hebrew date alone. This is probably for convenience sake, since the academic year begins right after the holidays of Tishri, and since it is elegantly designated by only one Hebrew year (e.g., 5773) but inelegantly designated by two hyphenated Christian years (e.g., 2012–2013).
The Hebrew calendar thus gives a Jewish rhythm to life in the State. However, some Israeli politicians would like to see the Israeli public calendar brought closer into line with the Christian calendar. For example, some politicians would like the State to adopt a Saturday-Sunday two-day weekend, as in many countries in the Christian West. Other politicians agree that a two-day week-end is desirable, but, sensitive to the interests of the Muslim minority, prefer that it be on Friday and Saturday—and this makes more sense since Friday is already effectively a half-holiday in Israel, with many people either not working or working only part-time.

However, a still better idea was proposed more than four decades ago by Rabbi Norman Lamm in his article, “The Rosh Hodesh Plan” (National Jewish Monthly 85, July–August, 1971, pp. 24–25). He suggested that the first day of each Hebrew month, that is, Rosh Hodesh, be observed in Israel as a legal day of rest. His plan was championed at the time by the then young National Religious MK Zevulun Hammer. According to the Lamm-Hammer initiative, only one day of Rosh Hodesh would be observed as a legal holiday each month, even when Rosh Hodesh is two days. Since Rosh Hodesh sometimes falls on Sabbaths and holidays, the plan would add about seven to nine days of rest each year. If it were decided to have two legal holidays in months when Rosh Hodesh is two days, then it would add 10 to 12 days. It is now time to reconsider the Lamm-Hammer initiative. It would answer the Israelis’ desire for more legal days of rest, give new relevance to the ancient Jewish celebration of the New Moon, and enhance the Jewish rhythm of life in the State.

Jewish Law

At the time of the creation of the State of Israel, those who proposed it be governed according to Jewish law offered a simple argument: If Britain is governed by British law and France by French law, then should not the Jewish State be governed by Jewish law? The proposal received some support, but was not adopted. Israeli law was instead concocted out of an ad hoc mixture of British law, Ottoman law, German law, and other diverse elements. Nonetheless, the importance of giving Jewish law—or as it is called in Israel “mishpat `ivri”—a place in the legal system of the Jewish state was recognized by early jurists and politicians, and they appointed leading experts in Jewish law to Israel’s Supreme Court: Rabbi Professor Simcha Assaf (appointed 1948), Professor Moshe Zilberg (appointed 1950), and Professor Menachem Elon (appointed 1977). In addition, Chief Justice Haim Cohn (served on the Court, 1960–1981), a skilled talmudist, often cited rabbinic sources in his decisions. In recent years, however, the importance of having major authorities of Jewish law on the Supreme Court has not been widely recognized. One exception to this tendency was Chief Justice Aharon Barak, who in 1994 sought unsuccessfully to appoint the distinguished dayyan Rabbi Shlomo Dichovsky to the Supreme Court as a replacement for the retired Justice Elon.

Today almost no one speaks of the necessity of having experts in Jewish law on the Supreme Court. Instead, it has become fashionable to speak of the “religious seat” or “religious seats” on the Supreme Court. In the elections to the Supreme Court in 2011, Religious Zionist politicians worked very hard to elect a “religious” judge to the court, but, as far as I could see, they made no attempt at all to get an expert in Jewish law elected. The subject apparently did not interest them. As a believer in the enduring value of Jewish law, I would like to see outstanding experts in Jewish law on Israel’s Supreme Court—whether or not they are “religious.” Truth to tell, I couldn’t care less how many “religious” justices are on the court. I have no desire to know which justices don’t eat pork, which shut off their computers on the Sabbath, or which fast on Yom Kippur. However, I think it is important that Jewish law have a firm place in Israeli law, and this is only possible if there are men and women in the legal system who are well versed in it—and, in particular, if there are experts in Jewish law on the Supreme Court.

The place of Jewish law in the Israeli legal system was given a formal definition in the 1980 Foundations of the Law Act. According to this document, whenever the courts are in doubt regarding a decision, they shall “decide it in the light of the principles of liberty, justice, equity, and peace of the Jewish heritage [moreshet Yisrael].” This flowery dictum has been interpreted in many ways, but some jurists have seen in it an invitation to make use of Jewish law. Now, whether or not it is an invitation to use Jewish law, it is surely a license to do so; for although it is true that “Jewish heritage” does not necessarily mean Jewish law, it is undeniable that Jewish law is part of the “Jewish heritage.”

Let me give one example that illustrates the place of Jewish law in Israel today and the attitudes Israelis have toward it. The example concerns a 1986 law forbidding the public display of hametz on Passover (except in non-Jewish neighborhoods). This law was for years not enforced. However, when in 2001 a religious Interior Minister threatened to enforce it, he stirred up angry opposition. Non-kosher restaurants and food-stores, which legally served non-kosher food all year round, were now suddenly required by law to obey certain particular dietary laws. The requirement seemed at times absurd. For example, Italian eateries that sold pizza pepperoni were told to make it from unleavened dough—the pork and cheese were fine, as long as served on matzah! Many rebelled against the law and ridiculed it. Journalists denounced it as one of the most obnoxious examples of religious coercion in Israel’s history, and argued that it discriminated against the non-religious and prevented them from making a fair living. Professors of law argued that it was unconstitutional. Knesset members organized to repeal it. It seemed quite clear that its days were numbered.

Then on Passover 2007, in Jerusalem, special officers raided a grocery store, two restaurants, and a pizzeria, and gave them summonses for selling hametz in public. The case attracted much media attention, and was tried in the Jerusalem court of Judge Tamar Bar-Asher Zaban, who had clerked for Justice Elon on the Supreme Court. Her astute ruling is exemplary for two reasons: first, she succeeded in giving the unreasonable law a new reasonable definition, and thus saved it from being repealed; and second, in redefining the law, she made use of the Talmud and Rashi’s Commentary.

The judge acquitted the four defendants. Her decision was based on a distinction between two senses of “public,” designated by two different Hebrew words: “pumbi” and “tzibburi.” The law, she explained, forbids display of hametz “in public” (pumbi), that is, in a place visible to passers-by. A restaurant or food store is “public” (tzibburi) in the sense that it is not private, but not “public” (pumbi) in the sense that passers-by can see what’s going on inside. The law, thus, does not forbid the sale of hametz inside a restaurant or store, but would forbid it on the street in a place visible to passers-by. Supporting her distinction between the two senses of “public,” she cited a 1998 Tel-Aviv case in which a man was acquitted of the charge of committing an indecent act “in public” (pumbi) in a stall of a public rest room, since the stall, although public (tzibburi), was not “public” (pumbi). In order to provide a theoretical basis for her decision, she referred to the talmudic definition of “reshut haRabbim” (“public domain”) in BT Shabbat 6a: “What is reshut haRabbim? A thoroughfare, a big plaza, and alleys open at both sides,” such as, according to Rashi, an intercity highway, an urban market, and streets at least seven meters wide. The judge reasoned: just as not all public roads or markets are considered “reshut haRabbim” by the Talmud, so not all public places are considered “pumbi” by Israeli law.
The hametz law, as now redefined by Judge Bar-Asher Zaban, seems acceptable to most Israelis, and talk of repealing it has ceased. One would think that religious Jews, concerned about preserving the spirit of Passover in the public domain, would have praised the judge’s decision that prevented the law from being repealed. However, the religious politicians and journalists vociferously attacked her for not convicting the four defendants.

The case illustrates how an Israeli judge knowledgeable in Jewish law found a helpful discussion in the Talmud that enabled her to turn an unreasonable law into a reasonable one. It also illustrates that non-religious Israelis, although adverse to religious coercion, are willing to accept laws concerning the public celebration of Jewish holidays, provided they do not impinge on their basic freedoms.
If we want mishpat `ivri to play a meaningful role in Israeli jurisprudence, it is necessary to strengthen its study in Israeli law schools. Judges who have been educated in Jewish law will be able to refer to it when appropriate.

Conclusion

What is the role of Judaism in the State of Israel? It provides the prophetic vision that is at the foundation of the State’s values of justice, liberty, and equality. The Hebrew language spoken by Israelis gives them a uniquely intimate access to the classical texts of Judaism. The Hebrew calendar used in Israel gives a Jewish rhythm to life in the State. Jewish law, when cited in Israeli courts, adds a Jewish dimension to Israeli law. The State must not teach Jewish religion but it must teach Hebrew language and literature—and I believe that if it does that effectively the many and various expressions of Judaism will flourish in it.

Angel for Shabbat, Parashat Emor

by Rabbi Marc D. Angel

People have made a wry play on the names of this and the previous two Torah portions: Aharei Mot Kedoshim Emor: After death…call them holy. This points to the practice of glorifying people after their deaths. Faults are ignored, virtues are magnified, eulogies turn ordinary people into saints.

But the phrase also has another meaning. When people have passed on, it seems that only then do we begin fully to appreciate their virtues. During their lifetimes, we took them for granted; or underestimated them; or didn’t demonstrate the love and respect they deserved. After death, we start to relate their holiness, their goodness, their wisdom.

Some years ago, I gave a lecture to health care workers in a hospital in Baltimore on my book, “The Orphaned Adult.”  The talk included discussion of the mourning process and how we remember our parents once they are no longer with us. After my lecture, lively discussion ensued among the participants.

One of them, a Catholic nun, related a story about when her mother was growing older and frailer. Instead of waiting to eulogize her at a funeral, the family called together relatives and friends to a party to celebrate the mother’s life…while she was alive! They shared memories, expressed love and appreciation, and all in an environment that was happy and uplifting. The nun told us how happy her mother was to feel the love, hear the kind words, and sense that her life had had so much positive impact.  Why wait for a funeral to express our love? Why not celebrate the lives of our loved ones while they are alive and when our words can validate their lives?

I have often thought that eulogies come too late. All the nice words of praise and appreciation come after the person has died. If the deceased person had heard these same words while still alive, it would have been a source of ineffable happiness.

When I was in college, a friend of mine had a cousin who was killed in a gang war in the Bronx. At the Shiva home, family members reminisced about the dead young man: yes, he was tough, but he had a good heart; he got mixed up with the wrong people, but he had so much good in him; he was respectful to his parents and kind to friends and neighbors. Everyone seemed to find something good to say about him. My friend stood up and said with great emotion: if he had heard these things from you while he was still alive, maybe he would still be alive! All I ever heard you say about him was that he was a no-good hoodlum, a bad person, a violent person. There was a great hush in the room. Indeed, that young man's self-image and self-esteem might have been very different if he had heard loving words of praise during his lifetime.

Sometimes people go through life without ever knowing how much others love them, admire them, see virtue in them. I have been at many funerals where mourners have said: I wish I would have told him how much I loved him; I wish I would have done more for her; I wish I had let him/her know how much I cared.

Why don't we realize how powerful words of praise can be and how painful words of condemnation and ridicule can be? Words of sincere appreciation can change a human life. A loving hug, a pat on the back, a smile, a genuine compliment--these things can give joy and meaning to those we love, respect and admire.

We ought not wait for eulogies at funerals to express our feelings. We ought to live as loving, thoughtful and sharing human beings who honestly cherish and value our family and friends--and who let them know how much they mean to us.

Angel for Shabbat--Aharei Mot/Kedoshim

by Rabbi Marc D. Angel

The Sifra on Vayikra 19:18 records a debate between Rabbi Akiva and Ben Azzai. Rabbi Akiva states that the verse, "and you shall love your neighbor as yourself" is a great principle of the Torah. Ben Azzai, while agreeing with Rabbi Akiva's basic point, suggests that another verse contains an even greater principle of Torah: zeh sefer toledot adam, zeh kelal gadol mizeh (This is the book of the generations of man--this is an even greater principle). This verse, drawn from Parashat Bereishith, includes the words that God created human beings in His image. Thus, we are called upon to respect all human beings--regardless of their particular backgrounds. Ben Azzai, is offering a universal vision of inclusiveness and commitment to humanity in general, not just to our own friends and neighbors. This is an even greater principle than loving one's neighbor as oneself, in the sense that it enlarges our perspective, and helps us view ourselves as part of the greater human family.

But how do we balance the particular commitment to our family and faith with a recognition of the universal value of all human beings?

Some years ago, I read a parable in the writings of Dr. Pinchas Polonsky that helped me clarify my thinking. Imagine that you have carefully studied a painting day after day, year after year. You know every brush-stroke, color, shadow… you know every detail of the painting and you understand it to the extent humanly possible. And then, one day someone comes along and turns on the light. You then realize that the painting you had studied to perfection is actually part of a much larger canvas. As you stand back, you realize that you need to re-evaluate your thinking. The segment of the canvas that you have studied all these years has not changed; you still know every detail; it is still absolutely true. Yet, you must now study your truth in context of a much larger canvas.

Each faith, at its best, has a very true understanding of its piece of the larger canvas. But when the lights go on, each faith must come to realize that it represents part of the picture but not the whole picture. A grand religious vision must necessarily entail a grand perception of God: God is great enough to create and love all human beings. God sees the whole canvas of humanity in its fullness.

One of the great challenges facing religions is to see the entire picture, not just our particular segment of it. While being fully committed to our faiths, we also need to make room for others. We need, in a sense, to see humanity from the perspective of God, to see the whole canvas not just individual segments of it.

Religious vision is faulty when it sees one, and only one, way to God. Religious vision is faulty when it promotes forced conversions, discrimination against “infidels,” violence and murder of those holding different views. How very tragic it is that much of the anti-religious persecution that takes place in our world is perpetrated by people who claim to be religious, who claim to be serving the glory of God.

While religion today should be the strongest force for a united, compassionate and tolerant humanity, it often appears in quite different garb. Religion is too often identified with terrorism, extremism, superstition, exploitation…and hypocrisy. People commit the most heinous crimes…and do so while claiming to be acting in the name of God.

The authentic religious voice should be one that fosters mutual understanding; we should remind ourselves and our fellow religionists that God loves all human beings and wants all human beings to be blessed with happy and good lives. There is room for all of us on this earth. We need to foster a religious vision that is humble, thoughtful, and appreciative of the greatness of God.

Angel for Shabbat--Tazria/Metsora

by Rabbi Marc D. Angel

The Torah describes a certain ailment known as tsara’at. While this word has often been translated as leprosy, Maimonides wrote that we do not really know what it means. It seems not to be a medical condition at all, but rather a physical sign of a spiritual blemish.

Rabbinic tradition has connected tsara’at with the sin of lashon hara—slander, evil gossip. Obviously, tsara’at does not manifest itself today in all those who utter negative comments about others; if it did, almost everyone would be afflicted with it. However, the moral intent of the rabbinic tradition is important; it relates to an affliction of the soul rather than the body.

The Torah teaches that one who contracts tsara’at is sent into isolation “outside the camp.”  Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz comments: “When one is isolated with tsara’at, one remains alone and only then can one truly ponder one’s own faults. Only after one is told that he is beset with faults and is isolated with them can he begin to grapple with them until they disappear” (Talks on the Parasha, p. 224).

Being isolated gives one an opportunity for self-reflection and for honest thinking about moral shortcomings.

But isolation provides something else.

It is natural for people to compare ourselves to others. Yes, I have made sins…but others are much worse than I am. Yes, I’ve spoken slander and gossip…but hardly as much as many people I know. Consciously or subconsciously, we tend to evaluate ourselves favorably in contrast with others.

When one is isolated, there’s no one there to compare oneself against! The isolated individual suddenly realizes that he/she must self-judge without the advantage of having anyone to look down upon.

One of the root causes of slander and gossip is comparing ourselves to others. People often see themselves in a general competition. If others have more or better, the tendency is to want to cut them down to size, to find faults, to speak disparagingly about them. If others have less or worse, the tendency is to gloat and publicize their shortcomings in comparison to ourselves. Lashon hara stems from lack of self-esteem. In order to bolster one’s ego, one seeks to compare others unfavorably to oneself.

That is the source of the moral blemish of tsara’at and that’s why isolation is a suitable cure. Isolation helps one to realize that making negative comparisons to others is a sign of personal weakness. We shouldn’t be comparing ourselves to others; we should be comparing ourselves to our ideal selves, to what we can be. It is a way to develop the inner poise and strength of character so that we don’t feel a need to run others down in order to bolster ourselves?

Today, we don’t have the physical manifestations of tsara’at and we don’t punish anyone by sending them into isolation. However, we can each find occasion to make private time for self-reflection. The goal is to enable us to rise above the pettiness of lashon hara. We aren’t better when we demean others; we actually demean ourselves when we do so.

Angel for Shabbat, Parashat Shemini

by Rabbi Marc D. Angel

“For I am the Lord your God; sanctify yourselves therefore and be holy, for I am holy…” (Vayikra 11:44).

This week’s parasha delineates the laws about which animals may and may not be eaten. In doing so, it calls on us to make a separation between the impure and the pure. Holiness is identified with separation, making distinctions between what is permissible and what is forbidden.

Just as God is holy/separate, so we are instructed to sanctify ourselves by making distinctions between the holy and the profane, the pure and the impure, the permissible and the forbidden.

What is at stake is not merely a technical process of following the dos and don’ts of the rules. Holiness/separation is essentially a call for a particular worldview.

The havdallah service at the conclusion of Shabbat illustrates the point. For a secular person, the seven days of the week are simply seven twenty-four hour periods of time without any objective difference among them. For a religious Jew, though, Shabbat is not just another day, but is sanctified. The havdallah blessing notes the separation between Shabbat and weekdays, between the holy Sabbath and the regular workdays. A religious person literally feels the sanctity of Shabbat; it is qualitatively a different kind of time from the other days of the week.

Religious people view things very differently from secular people. Not only is time sanctified through Sabbath and festivals; but space and objects are viewed from a perspective of sanctity. A synagogue, for example, is not just another building; it is the dwelling place of God, a sanctified space that puts us in context with the divine. When a religious person experiences a sanctuary it is an altogether different experience from that of a secular person who enters the building.

Mircea Eliade, a thoughtful historian of religion, has noted that religious people view things as manifestations of God. “The existence of the world itself means something, wants to say something….For religious man the cosmos lives and speaks” (The Sacred and the Profane, p. 165). The sense of the sacred endows life with meaning, hope, spiritual goals. Lacking the sense of the sacred, people are deprived of a unique vision and perspective on life.

Modernity has done much to undermine the sacred. Secularization has robbed existence of ultimate meanings, divine whisperings, qualitative distinctions between the sacred and the profane. It is said: it was once the holy Sabbath; then the Sabbath; then Saturday; and now the Weekend. The depreciation of the sacred has not led to a happier, better humanity.

In Judaism, we have a wide range of halakhot that govern all aspects of our lives. Even our mundane activities are sanctified through blessings, through an awareness of fulfilling God’s directives. Eliade has noted that “for nonreligious man, all vital experiences—whether sex or eating, work or play—have been desacralized. This means that all these physiological acts are deprived of spiritual significance, hence deprived of their truly human dimension” (ibid., p.168).

When the Torah calls on us to be holy, it is not asking us to remove ourselves from the ongoing flow of life. Rather, it is calling on us to view our lives with a divine perspective. It challenges us to live on a deeper plane, to experience sanctity in all aspects of our world and our lives.

When the holy Sabbath is transformed into the Weekend, life itself is desacralized. When holy buildings and objects are treated as though they are just physical entities like all other physical entities, a vital spiritual dimension is lost.

To separate between the holy and the profane is not a mechanical task. It is a spiritual challenge encompassing the very way we view our lives and the world.

It has been two years since the groundbreaking Abraham Accords have been signed. The UAE, Kosovo, Bahrain, Morocco and Sudan now have full and open diplomatic and economic ties thanks to this achievement of international relations. As Israel celebrates her 75^th birthday, it is a great moment to reflect upon the diplomatic accomplishment for the Jewish State and wider region.

As time passes it is incumbent for educators to celebrate this watershed mark in Israel’s story as it turns the page in the 21^st century. Tangible, pragmatic lessons can be gleaned from the success of the accords and should be cited by educators, parents and the wider community. The Abraham Accords are named for our common forefather Abraham and captures the essence of Israel being a blessing to the world that should be discussed explicitly and openly.

The forefather Abraham is specifically invoked in the title of these agreements as the common ancestor of the parties involved. The text of the UAE- Israel Treaty states this point unambiguously:

Recognizing that the Arab and Jewish peoples are descendants of a common ancestor, Abraham, and inspired, in that spirit, to foster in the Middle East a reality in which Muslims, Jews, Christians and peoples of all faiths, denominations, beliefs and nationalities live in, and are committed to, a spirit of coexistence, mutual understanding and mutual respect;

This commonality for all people in the Middle East; Jewish, Christian and Muslem underscores the ideas of harmony and mutual purpose. Rather than focus on difference and points of contention, the framework of the Abraham Accords is a new chapter focused on shared values and united aspirations.

Israel’s detractors do not shy away from any chance to point to the State of Israel’s faults and make sweeping generalizations and mischaracterizations in the most vicious terms. As an educator on an American campus, I find it critical to encourage Jewish and non- Jewish students to celebrate and be proud of Israel and the Abraham Accords. As parents, educators and general supporters of Israel, we should take the opportunity to discuss Israel’s achievements as a blessing to the world.

Background

Many organizations and observers were skeptical at first, but the Accords have proven to be quite popular and resilient. Whereas some predicted imminent catastrophe and discontent among Palestinians, it would seem that the reality is the opposite and the only effects have been positive. Furthermore, the Accords have proved resilient in surviving both the American Administration of President Donald Trump and the Premiership of Bibi Netanyahu.

We often hear the story of Zionism described through a framework of armed conflict. The accords open possibility for a new narrative. For youths, especially those living in the West, security concerns and historical antecedents of 21^st century Israel are abstract. Indeed, the ancient Prophets of Israel imagined Israel as a “light onto nations” while modern visionaries of Zionism, such as Theodore Herzl imagined Israel as an idealistic country where armies would not be necessary.

While Herzl’s utopian vision of an ideal Israel bringing prosperity to the region has in the past been difficult to conceive, there is now hope that a better future is possible. It would seem, that the Abraham Accords represent a new development in diplomatic achievement for both Israel and her neighbors with each country advancing. Evidence of this success is expressed almost daily in news of economic cooperation, healthy political relations and overall prosperity to all parties involved. In other words, the narrative for Israel’s neighbors is less about security and conflict more about cooperation and stability.

It is to the credit of the trailblazing efforts of a small group of ambitious negotiators on all sides that this diplomatic turning point was accomplished. Led by former US Secretary of State Mike Pompeo, Special Envoy Jason Greenblatt, senior advisor Jared Kushner, Ambassador David Friedman and a small cadre of others proved so many accepted dogmas to be false in the Middle East and created a new and objectively better reality for the region. Equally remarkable are the coalition of Arab and Israeli leaders who chose to engage and shatter decades long taboos, by realizing the potential of breaking away from outdated stigmas.

The full story of the Abraham Accords is available through the published memoirs of some of the aforementioned negotiators and strongly recommended for those looking to seek fuller appreciation of this story. Without delving into the elaborate and fascinating details of statesmanship that went into these Accords, below are four reflection points to consider upon Israel’s 75^th anniversary which are underscored by the Abraham Accords.

1. Israel’s next phase

The Abraham Accords represents the first treaty signed with Muslim countries that were unrelated to military engagements. In other words, Israel is now in a new phase of relations that is based on mutual values and aspirations.

Early diplomatic achievements and relationships with Israel’s neighbors were predicated on the use of force and ability to defend herself. For example the 9 month long Independence War of 1948 was concluded through a series of diplomatic agreements that brought the war to a close by forcing a realization that the Jewish People could not be eliminated. Similar patters emerge in subsequent wars and can be reviewed in the summary chart below.

Figure 1 below summarizes, that while Israel’s adversaries did not officially recognize the Jewish State, armed confrontation forced the Arab States into negotiated covenants. This older group of diplomatic agreements with Syria (1974), Egypt (1979), and Lebanon (1983) are important achievements from an earlier part of Israel’s history. This first phase of peace agreements were precarious at best and were mostly based upon security concerns for all parties. Following the assassination of Anwar Sadat in1981 and the ejection of Lebanon from the Arab League in 1983 for negotiating with Israel, it would seem that all progress with the wider Arab World would only occur through military resolution.

Figure1. Israel’s First Phase Treaties

This status quo changed in 1994 with the Israel- Jordan treaty. Unlike the former agreements, where diplomatic achievement only occurred in the wake of a confrontation, Jordan and Israel had not been in military conflict since the Six Day War. As it turned out, Israel and Jordan had a lot of common interests. Economic benefits, the sharing of resources and the prosperity of each country’s respective citizens were the primary objectives that led to a new type of agreement not predicated on armed conflict. 

The Abraham Accords is the next step in this new phase which has been dubbed the “new order” of the Middle East. As the Moroccan Foreign Minister observed:

There is a need for a new regional order where Israel is a stakeholder and no longer an outsider in its own region. This new regional order should not be perceived as against someone, but rather to benefit us all. Also, this new regional order should be based on an updated joint assessment of threats, but also on how to generate opportunities that favor stability and development forward.[1]

The Abraham Accords is the next chapter of Israel’s history in which the Jewish State plays a positive regional role in the Middle East with her neighbors. It is as the US state department succinctly puts it: “friendly relations based on shared interests and a shared commitment to a better future.”[2]

2. Pragmatic Diplomacy

Today’s college students in Israel, the Arab World and the United States were born after the 2000 Camp David summit. Yasser Arafat was dead before they were in Kindergarten. This new generation does not have the privilege to meet the pioneering generation that built Israel, but also is not burdened or shoehorned to diplomatic dogmas of the previous generation. The Abraham Accords is an opportunity to have an Israel conversation that breaks away from a generation of failed Oslo policy in favor of a more pragmatic approach.

The more than 25 year lapse between the Jordan Peace treaties in 1994 and the Abraham Accords is cause for reflection. The time gap represents a generation of stalemate and quagmire of little hope and resolution that has impacted Israel negatively.

The preoccupation and aspirational hopes of an elusive peace Initiated by the Oslo Accords (1993-1995) is a critical factor. The powerful idea of Oslo, while based in praiseworthy aspirations led diplomats to reflexively ignore the wider opportunities of engaging with willing counterparties. Like so many other idealistic goals, the means to an unrealistic end produced a worse off reality than the original status quo. 

While at an earlier time, an achievable peace through the Oslo accords may have been possible, the violent, selfish and illogical rejection by Palestinian leadership of all overtures should have made clear that goal would remain intangible and required a re-assessment of a difficult situation. The Israel Ministry of Foreign Affairs counts the following major acts of terror that were committed in the short time between the initial Oslo signing and before the tragic Yitzhak Rabin’s assassination[3]:

1. Apr 6, 1994 - Eight people were killed in a car-bomb attack on a bus in the center of Afula. Hamas claimed responsibility for the attack.
2. Apr 13, 1994 - Five people were killed in a suicide bombing attack on a bus in the central bus station of Hadera. Hamas claimed responsibility for the attack.
3. Oct 19, 1994 - In a suicide bombing attack on the No. 5 bus on Dizengoff Street in Tel-Aviv, 21 Israelis and one Dutch national were killed.
4. Nov 11, 1994 - Three soldiers were killed at the Netzarim junction in the Gaza Strip when a Palestinian riding a bicycle detonated explosives strapped to his body. Islamic Jihad said it carried out the attack to avenge the car bomb killing of Islamic Jihad leader Hani Abed on Nov 2.
5. Jan 22, 1995 - Two consecutive bombs exploded at the Beit Lid junction near Netanya, killing 20 soldiers and one civilian. The Islamic Jihad claimed responsibility for the attack.
6. Apr 9, 1995 - Seven Israelis and one American were killed when a bus was hit by an explosives-laden van near Kfar Darom in the Gaza Strip. The Islamic Jihad claimed responsibility for the attack.
7. Jul 24, 1995 - Six civilians were killed in a suicide bomb attack on a bus in Ramat Gan.
8. Aug 21, 1995 - Three Israelis and one American were killed in a suicide bombing of a Jerusalem bus.

Six out of eight of these major attacks were perpetrated against civilians, not to mention countless other attacks in which civilians were only injured and not killed. Towards the end of his life, even Ytizhak Rabin acknowledged that his original grand vision for a Palestinian “State” should be downgraded to an “entity”.  The Palestinians, he believed, would have “less than a state,” and Israel would have to preserve security control over the Jordan Valley “in the broadest meaning of that term”[4].

The ongoing campaigns against Israeli civilians led many early supporters to be reluctant of initial support of the Oslo framework. Pedagogical hate spewed wholesale in Palestinian schools coupled with rejection of even the most generous overtures such as the Camp David Accords in 2000 and the unilateral 2005 Gaza pullout left little incentive for progress on either side.  The continued belief in the ideal at Oslo became increasingly abstract. This is what former Ambassador Ron Dermer called on multiple occasions the “two State illusion”.

The small group of negotiating parties on all sides of the Abraham Accords recognized the pragmatism of working together. The UAE ambassador for example goes on record saying “…understanding that countries can have very fruitful and forward-looking relations but can disagree on issues and need to work the disagreements together. It can’t be just zero-sum games but it has to be positive as we move forward.” Indeed each party had more to gain from cooperating and acting in their respective citizens own interests, rather than holding old grudges.

Small incremental victories are preferable to overarching and intangible goals. Surely there are average Palestinians that want a better life for their families through cooperation with Israel and her citizens before any “final status” is reached. Many sovereign Arab leaders recognize the common destiny of the region and choose to embark on a new chapter in which Israel is an active player.

3. Creative Thinking

Former US ambassador to Israel David Friedman’s memoir of the Abraham accords is titled “Sledgehammer: How Breaking with the Past Brought Peace to the Middle East”. The title recalls that the Accords only came to fruition from a decisive departure from the established narrative and status quo.

The Abraham accord was initiated by creative and daring establishment outsiders that had the audacity to challenge the dream of Oslo and come up with something better. The Status quo conventions and talking points were hardened into a political correctness at the expense of pragmatic possibility for over twenty five years. The “two state solution” of peace was repeated while seldom explaining how that step would achieve peace even in the face of decades of failure and bloodshed.

Breaking the inertia of the establishment created the Abraham Accords. It was only “outsiders” that could have created these important developments through fresh pragmatisms without the liability of previous statements, ideas and hypocrisies.

While the expert establishment insisted that all Palestinian issues must be solved before any progress is made, The Arab World actually believes the opposite. Upon the one year anniversary of the accords the UAE Foreign Minister Anwar Gargash stated officially in a  conference with Israel organized by the United States that:

Politically, also, we feel that the Abrahamic Accords will allow us to help and assist further in the peace process, leading to what we all see as the ultimate goal of a two-state solution. This, of course, will be up to the Palestinians and Israelis to agree. But I think we can all be more constructive as we build a network of trust, and that network of trust I think will allow us to put away a lot of the fears of the past and replace it by the hopes for the future.

In other words, the UAE believes – in stark contrast to many established organizations and policy experts, that the Accords accelerated the peace process. Dialogue, relationships and trust increase mutual understanding which only helps peace.

These accords prove that we can all make a difference. Informed, conscientious stakeholders have the ability and right to make a change. The expert class does have insight and experience, but also more inertia and less creativity and willingness to try new avenues of success. We would be doing ourselves a favor to engage with Israel and voice our concerns in a meaningful way.  No matter who you are, a good idea has currency and the ability to make a difference. Through hard work amazing result are possible and we can all contribute to that great success.

4. Regional Prosperity

Are The Accords the beginning of the end of the BDS movement? It is ironic that it was in Sudan, now a partner in the Abraham Accords, which the Arab League declared in the aftermath of the Six Day War: “No Peace with Israel, no recognition of Israel and no negations with Israel.” Lebanon was formally ejected from the Arab League in 1983 for negotiating with Israel.  For decades no progress was made. Jordan, Egypt, UAE, Bahrain, Kosovo, Morocco and Sudan have now all reversed course and made a decision to improve the lives of their respective citizens by allowing them to trade freely with a willing partner.

 Instead of boycotting and marginalizing the Jewish State, the accords explicitly pronounce the opposite as something to strive for. In the Declarations section of the official Accord documents the following is recounted regarding cooperation and Dialogue:

We believe that the best way to address challenges is through cooperation and dialogue and that developing friendly relations among States advances the interests of lasting peace in the Middle East and around the world.[5]

The Arab League’s long running embargo against the Jewish State predated the founding of the county. The old idea that parties could be coerced by unilateral hostile actors through boycotts and embargos, has been rejected by the Arab World. The Abraham Accords find Israel freely trading with her neighbors, where all involved prosper. The optimism can be encapsulated by UAE minister of Economy Abdulla bin Touq Al Marri who projects “$1 trillion dollars of economic activity over the next decade," between his country and Israel.[6]

 Many critics abounded at the outset of the Abraham Accords. Among experts it was considered ludicrous to focus on other Arabs States before “solving” the Palestinian problem. In fact the Arab and Palestinian conflicts were so closely associated that the two were often conflated into a single cause or used interchangeably.  Hardened ideology linking the Palestinian Peace Process to the rest of the Arab Nations and wider regional concerns proved false.

Secretary of State Anthony Blinken remarked the following in closing statements during a conference with Israel and her new allies:

“Abraham, in our Bible, had the temerity to engage God, to argue with God, to ask why, and maybe more important, to ask why not. And I think each of you and each of your countries asked, “Why not?” And the answer now we see before us with the accords, with normalization, and with the manifest benefits that it’s bringing to people not just in the countries concerned, but I think increasingly more broadly.[7]

The answer in the past to Mr. Blinken’s rhetorical question “why not” was the long standing policy by experts which interlinked the Arab and Palestinian problem as one issue. It proves that aside from uninformed college students and radical leftist peace groups, even the Arab World now embraces Israel.

The Abraham Accords remind us that the Middle East reality is complex. Solving conflicts requires nuance, and the ability to separate problems and deal with them individually. There is no magic solution to a myriad of difficult problems. Trying to find a singular solution or coercing one party and expecting positive outcomes is relegated to the imagination. The Abraham Accord separated two long standing problems and dealt with each individually: The Arab- Israel conflict and the separate Palestinian issue.

By separating the two issues and viewing each as independent, diplomats found room to negotiate. This development is an incremental yet crucial step towards achieving wider goals. Pragmatically dealing with problems as solutions and ideas present themselves is a recipe for success that has increased opportunity and prosperity for all parties.

Discussion

The Israelite Prophets Isaiah and Micah famous vision of “beating swords into ploughshares “is spread across the walls of the General Assembly hall in the United Nations Headquarters. The universal hope of a better tomorrow in which foe becomes friend finds no truer expression than the Abraham Accords. As Zionists and lovers of Israel, we should celebrate this monumental achievement.

In the Western World, we have been blessed with stability, peace and prosperity. Other developing nations such as Israel and her neighbors are building towards a better future. In light of the Russian war with Ukraine and Iranian aggression, we are reminded once more about the horrors of war and armed conflict. The Ukraine Jewish refugee crisis prompts us once again of Israel’s primary role as a haven and protector as the one and only Jewish state. We ought not to forget how fragile a peaceful future is.

While the peaceful vision of the Biblical Prophets are essential Jewish values, these peaceful visions should not be confused with the irrelevancy of security in a pre-messianic and imperfect world. In Israel’s chronology, maintaining security has proved essential in order to guarantee the safety of her citizens. Security allows countries and their leaders to perform their principal obligation to ethically protect the lives, rights and property of citizens and should not be confused with the utopian ideals of a world peace and universal fraternity among men.

The covenant of the citizens of Israel is first and foremost the security of her citizens and second of worldwide Jewry. Consideration of other sorts as noble as they might be are tertiary to the safety and survival of the Jewish People. Eloquently commenting on the balance between security and peace Martin Luther King declared at the Rabbinic Assembly on March 25^th 1968[8]:

Peace for Israel means security, and we must stand with all of our might to protect its right to exist, its territorial integrity. I see Israel, and never mind saying it, as one of the great outposts of democracy in the world, and a marvelous example of what can be done, how desert land almost can be transformed into an oasis of brotherhood and democracy. Peace for Israel means security and that security must be a reality.

Israel the country- a beacon of personal freedom, morality and biblical values can only exist if Israel’s people can survive. George Washington is credited as saying that “To be prepared for War is one of the most effectual means of preserving peace.” That is, that power is a necessary tool in statecraft, and in our context one that Israel has had to maintain to promote peace.

The audacious players that pulled this agreement together should be celebrated for their courage and creativity. The results have been a new narrative and better reality in the Middle East where daily non- stop flights and constant announcements of economic agreements have created prosperity for each respective country’s citizens.  Where others would not dare venture, these individuals risked, persevered and succeeded.

The Abraham Accords therefore is another pragmatic step towards a long lasting peace that should be celebrated universally. Unlike earlier treaties that contained an element of military capability, these accords focus on the aligning incentives and purpose. A strong and prosperous Israel has much to offer counterparties willing to negotiate with her. It demonstrates a shift in the Arab World’s approach to Israel based on pragmatic considerations. This new phase in the Middle East examines what Israel and her neighbors have in common instead of how they are different.

This new narrative is now the counter-point to the college campus narrative of Israel. Where the latter finds anger, negativity and hate the Accords tell a story of progress, hope and prosperity. This new narrative of the Middle East embodies an Israel embraced by her Arab and Muslim neighbors working in partnership for a better future in the region and ultimately the world.

 There is a comedic paradox in all of this. Where Israel was the scorn of the vanguard intelligentsia of recent years, it is Israel who has proven most progressive. Where Israel is portrayed as a warmonger; Israel chose peace. Where political science experts and diplomatic professors thought impossible, Israel made possible for all. Where convention preached fatalism, Israel exemplified action and possibility.

The new Middle East narrative encapsulates a larger lesson of the Abrahamic values of self- determination and freedom. Delegitimizing Israel and by extension America and her Biblical values for the sins of an imperfect past is to throw the proverbial baby out with the bathwater. We can focus our attention on the shortcomings in our governments, communities, personal lives and turn to the darkness of nihilism and embrace a fate of failure with no escape. The Bible rejects fate, and believes in the ability to attain a better tomorrow. Celebrating success, breeds further optimism and confidence in creating that better future. 

Conclusion

Israel’s success has once again proven an inspiration to all who those who dare to dream. The Abraham Accords demonstrates the possibility of working together with our neighbors and achieving a once unthinkable mutual exchange of “peace for peace”. In so doing, the daring, pragmatic, creatives of the Accords have provided leadership and hope for humanity during troubled times. When darkness and despair cloud possibility, Israel and her neighbors have integrated in unexpected ways. The fact that these efforts were initiated by fresh and creative thinkers demonstrate the impact that we can all have to effect big changes on the eve of Israel’s 75^th Birthday. In signifying success amidst despair, Israel has provided hope by being “a light onto nations” and embodies the Prophecies of being a “blessing to the inhabitants of the world”. 

Angel For Shabbat, Parashat Tsav

by Rabbi Marc D. Angel

A popular Judeo-Spanish proverb teaches: Aze bueno y echalo a la mar. Do a good deed, and cast it into the ocean. The idea is: do what is right and don’t expect any thanks or reward. The motivation for doing good…is the doing good itself, not the anticipation of gratitude or benefit.

Nevertheless, deep down in our hearts, it is difficult not to feel hurt if our goodness is not acknowledged. In “Notes from the Underground,” Fyodor Dostoevsky’s narrator says: “I’m even inclined to believe that the best definition of man is—a creature who walks on two legs and is ungrateful. But that is not all, that is not his principal failing; his greatest failing is his constant lack of moral sense…and, consequently, lack of good sense.”

Ingratitude is related to a lack of moral sense, a lack of good sense. A person who receives benefit should naturally and spontaneously express appreciation to the benefactor. It is not merely good manners, it is simple decency. Although the benefactor should not expect thanks, the recipient should give thanks.

Yet, we all sense the truth of Dostoevsky’s definition of man as a creature who is ungrateful. We receive so much from so many; and yet do not always express appreciation. We may simply be careless or thoughtless, or we may feel we are entitled to things without having to say thanks. We certainly feel the callousness of people who do not thank us for our good deeds, but we also need to introspect to be sure that we ourselves are not guilty of the same shortcoming.

In the past, I have written about what I call the “paper towel syndrome,” where people are used and then unceremoniously cast aside. As long as a person is deemed “productive” or “useful,” the person is respected. But once the person has been fully exploited, he/she is put aside and forgotten, cast into the trash bin of human history. No one says thanks any longer; no one even gives him/her a second thought. Aze bueno y echalo a la mar: do a good deed, cast it into the ocean. There’s no point expecting gratitude or appreciation. Ingratitude is a hard fact of life. Do good…and that is its own reward.

This week’s Torah portion delineates offerings that were to be brought by the Israelites in their service to the Lord in the Mishkan (sanctuary). The various sacrifices in those days covered a range of themes: sin offerings, purification offerings, thanksgiving offerings. The underlying theme of the offerings was: to come closer to the Almighty, one must have moral sense, good sense…and a sense of gratitude. A Midrash teaches that in the Messianic future, all sacrifices will become obsolete…except for the thanksgiving offering. Thanksgiving will always be a necessary component of a healthy moral life. Being ungrateful is a serious moral deficiency.

At the root of ingratitude is a basic arrogance, a self-absorbed view of life—an essential lack of humility. Egotists think of themselves, not of others. They use others to advance their own goals, and they are quick to discard people once they are no longer of use to them. Egotists validate Dostoevsky’s observation that human beings are characterized by ingratitude, lack of moral sense, lack of common sense. The Torah teaches us to be grateful, to express gratitude, to live humbly, morally and sensibly. These are difficult virtues to attain and we need to work hard to attain them. If we lack these qualities, we need to improve ourselves. If others lack these qualities, we ought to pity them.

 Meanwhile: aze bueno y echalo a la mar.