National Scholar Updates

During the Rosh Hashana/Yom Kippur period, some Jews have a custom known as “kapparot.” The ceremony involves swinging a live chicken over a person’s head three times, and then slaughtering the chicken. The chickens are supposed to be distributed to the poor. This ritual is generally performed on the eve of Yom Kippur, but some do it on the previous days. People who follow this practice believe that the ritual is a form of atonement (kapparah) for their sins.

This ritual, which seems to date from medieval times, has a controversial history. Rabbi Shelomo ben Aderet (Rashba, responsum 395) forbade this custom in his city of Barcelona. His teacher, Nachmanides, considered this practice to be idolatrous (darkhei emori). Rabbi Joseph Karo, in the Shulhan Arukh (Orah Hayyim 605), ruled:  “As for the practice to do a “kapparah” on the eve of Yom Kippur by slaughtering a chicken for each male and reciting some verses—one should stop this practice.”

Rabbi Moshe Isserles, in his gloss to this passage of the Shulhan Arukh, indicated that the custom of “kapparot” is widespread and has authoritative halakhic support; he ruled that the custom should not be altered. Other rabbis, Ashkenazic and Sephardic, have supported the continuation of “kapparot” with live chickens, slaughtering a rooster for each male and a hen for each female.

In modern times, the custom of “kapparot” has become increasingly problematic. Many people see it as a primitive, quasi-idolatrous practice. Others view “kapparot” as egregious cruelty to animals.

Rabbi Haim David Halevy (Mekor Hayyim 4:216) cites the Shulhan Arukh in calling for a stop to this practice. But he also cites authorities who support “kapparot” with chickens. He then offers his own opinion: for those who are not afraid of annulling this custom, they should follow the ruling of the Shulhan Arukh. One can fulfill the custom by using money rather than live chickens i.e. putting money into a sack and swinging it over a person’s head instead of swinging a live chicken. He cites the Hayyei Adam (144:4) who recommends using money rather than chickens. Rabbi Halevy writes that the slaughter of so many chickens in such a short time can lead to fatigue on the part of the shohetim, and mistakes can be made that result in the chickens actually not being kasher for consumption. Also, there is cruelty in the abundance of needless slaughter on the eve of Yom Kippur, a day dedicated to mercy. (See also his Asei Lekha Rav, 3:20; and Mayyim Hayyim 3:22).

The Shamayim V’Aretz Institute, dedicated to the prevention of cruelty to animals, has noted that each year thousands of chickens are kept in harsh conditions waiting to be used for “kapparot.”Many are never used and some are left to die of dehydration and starvation. Furthermore, undercover investigations have revealed that ritually slaughtered kosher chickens allegedly earmarked for "the poor" were instead thrown into the trash.

During the season of Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, we should be seeking atonement through our prayers and good deeds. Those who feel the need for a “kapparot” ceremony should use money rather than live chickens.

Shamayim V’Aretz Institute

Orthodox rabbis who have come out in opposition to the practice of chicken Kapparot 

Rabbi Yosef Adler
​Rabbi Dr. Marc Angel  
Rabbi Shlomo Aviner 
Rabbi Daniel Askenazi
Rabbi Joseph Beyda
Rabbi Yitzchak Blau
Rabbi Yosef Blau
Rabbi Aviad Bodner
Rabbi Ira Budow
Rabbi Dr. Nathan Lopes Cardozo
Rabba Dr. Carmella Abraham
Rabbi Michael Chernick 
Rabbi Eliyahu Fink  
Rabbi Eliezer Finkelman
Rabbi Aaron Frank
Maharat Ruth Balinsky Friedman 
Rabbi Yonassan Gershom
Rabbi Jeremy Gimpel
Rabbi Daniel Goodman
Rabbi Dr. Mel Gottlieb 
Rabbi Dr. Yitz Greenberg  
Rabbi Donn Gross
Rabbi Ari Hart
Rabbi Dr. Richard Hidary
Rabbi Eliezer Hirsch 
Rabbi David Kalb
Rabbi Yosef Kanefsky 
Rabbi Ysoscher Katz
​Rabbi Dr. Eugene Korn  
Rabbi Aaron Leibowitz
Rabbi Aryeh A. Leifert 
Rabbi Aaron Levy
Rabbi Yamin Levy  
Rabbi Dov Linzer 
Rabbi Yehoshua Looks  
Rabbi Haskel Lookstein  
Rabbi Asher Lopatin
Rabbi Moshe Mayor
Rabbi Dr. Ariel Evan Mayse
Rabbi Michael Melchior
Rabbi Avram Mlotek
Rosh Kehillah Dina Najman  
Rabbi Haim Ovadia
Rabbi Dani Passow
Rabbi Yossi Pollak  
Rabbi Sam Reinstein
Rabbi Dr. David Rosen
Rabbi Daniel Raphael Silverstein   
Rabbi Shlomo Segal  
Rabbi Chaim Seidler-Feller  
Rabbi Jay Shoulson
Rabbi David Stav
Rabbi Chaim Strauchler
Rabbi Devin Villarreal
Rabbi Dr. Shmuly Yanklowitz  
Rabbi Alan J. Yuter
Rabbi Lawrence Zierler

I am often asked what appears to be a rather logical question to an illogical circumstance: Why is an observant young Jewish woman studying medieval canon law? In my doctoral studies in the Judaic Studies and History Departments at New York University, I focus on medieval Jewish-Christian relations through law, specifically examining the ways that canon law treats and presents Jews.

Canon law is the Catholic equivalent of halakha: It is the law that guides Roman Catholic practice. However, unlike halakha, in which differing rabbinic opinions can present competing rulings and perspectives on a matter, canon law recognizes papal authority as a final arbitrator and standardizer of legal disputes and questions. Thus, by studying the canon law code, which the pope sanctioned, it is possible to learn about the Church’s position on the Jews, as well as to gain an additional perspective on the complex factors impacting Christian views on Jews as real people with differing religious practices, as opposed to as a theoretical competing and threatening alternative religion.

 It is important to recognize the difference between these two Christian approaches to Jews and Judaism in order to understand relations between the faith groups and the difference between ideas of intolerance and actual practiced intolerance. Further, by studying Christian attitudes toward and relations with Jews—and the medieval era as a whole—it is possible to better understand the atmosphere in which many rabbinic authorities on whom modern Judaism continues to rely—authorities such as the Rambam, Ramban, Rosh, Rashba, Rabbenu Asher, Rabbenu Gershom, and others—made their legal rulings.

Because our modern observance of Judaism is based on the rulings, understandings, and perspectives of our predecessors, it is important to examine and understand how halakha and minhagim have developed in tandem with socioeconomic and political pressures, as well as shifting religious priorities and outlooks. Appreciating how Jewish practices have resulted from a centuries-old dance between religion, personal spirituality and growth, the contemporaneous society, the past, and community priorities enables a greater appreciation for modern observance, as well as an understanding of how extra-legal pressures have impacted halakhic developments.

For example, Rabbenu Gershom—the highly influential eleventh-century Ashkenazic scholar—ruled in a responsum that rabbinic authorities should permit Jews to do business with Christians on Christian holidays because it had become standard communal practice; a prohibition would be ignored for economic reasons. He supported his position by citing Rebbi Yohanan’s lenient opinion from the Talmud that outside of Israel, non-Jews are not considered idolaters, and therefore there is no concern that the eleventh-century Jews would be supporting idolatry by engaging with Christians commercially during their holidays.[1] The sensitivity that he displayed toward his contemporaneous community’s needs and practices is an example of halakha developing in response to socioeconomic conditions and practices.

Understanding the historical realities that contributed to contemporary Jewish life, traditions, and law deepens our connection to modern Judaism by demonstrating how halakha has continued evolving on the basis of prior scholarship and Jewish communal needs. History highlights the sensitive side, relevance, and communally in touch nature of halakha and Jewish leadership.  

Examining historical relations between Christians and Jews enables a fuller appreciation of how Jews could and did act as members of Jewish communities and broader Christian societies in Western Europe. It reveals how Jews related to and lived amongst a majority culture and religion that differed from themselves and to examine how our predecessors navigated life as Jews amongst non-Jews, balancing economic necessities, social realities, and cultural pressures with their continued Jewish observance. Understanding that Jews engaged with Christians culturally, politically, economically, and socially shows that Jews throughout history have balanced interacting with non-Jews surrounding them, their ideas, and practices with their own religious and cultural norms. The Rambam participated in contemporaneous philosophical debates, Avraham ibn Ezra composed poetry influenced by Muslim peers, Shemuel haNagid wielded tremendous political power, and Isaac of Norwich was a leading English financier in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. It would be incorrect to believe that all Jews maintained full halakhic lifestyles, but halakhic observance was important in some fashion to some percentage of the community, though we can never know exactly what percentage.

For example, completed in 1234, Pope Gregory IX’s (d. 1241) Liber Extra, which compiled and organized prior ecclesiastical court cases in order to standardize rulings brought to ecclesiastical courts, includes rulings related to Jews and their proper function in Christian society. Although there is a whole chapter dedicated to Jews’ place in Christian society, Jews also appear scattered throughout the book. These other appearances are perhaps more interesting because they are less concerned with Jews as a religious group and more interested in how to manage Jews as individual people. Jews emerge in the code as real individuals, biblical and historical ideas, and religious others. A study of how Jews emerge as ideas and realities in the code—which I hope to complete for my dissertation—will shed further light on Jewish life in medieval Christendom, and Jews’ place in medieval ecclesiastical thought.

Studying Jews in canon law cases, such as those in the Liber Extra, further enhances our knowledge of Jews’ daily lives and their realities. For example, there is an assumption that most Jews in medieval Europe worked as moneylenders, in banking, or perhaps as artisans. Agriculture is not normally associated with medieval Jews. However, the Liber Extra records that in the mid-twelfth century the bishop of Montpellier, in Southern France, asked Pope Alexander III about whether or not Jewish farmers owed tithes to the Church, as Christian farmers did. The pope responded, “You should force them with everything in your district to pay tithes or renounce their possessions as punishment, lest, by chance, they should succeed to trick the church through their law.” The question itself enhances our knowledge of Jewish history by demonstrating that Jews, at least around Montpellier, did farm. Further, the pope’s answer evidences concern that Jews may have attempted to use Jewish law, which ecclesiastical and secular authorities allowed to govern communal Jewish life, to evade paying tithes. His worry highlights part of the ecclesiastical concern that Jews’ observances and laws might threaten Christians in Christendom and their success. As a result—and also no doubt because of financial concerns—he warns the bishop about the possibility of Jewish law superseding their obligations within Christendom and ignoring Christian practices. Thus, Christian ideas about Jews and their proper place in Christendom emerge from this case, as well as evidence of Jewish daily life. [2]

Although the modern and medieval Jewish conditions vastly differ, our past offers examples for how to live as Jews engaged with the non-Jewish world. So, when I am asked why I, an observant Jew, study medieval canon law and the Jews, I answer that it is not about the canon law—though that too is important and fascinating—but it is about understanding and appreciating the cultural and socioeconomic milieu in which Judaism has evolved. It is important for us twenty-first century Jews to realize that for centuries our ancestors were engaged members of the non-Jewish world around them and simultaneously members of the Jewish community. Studying the past from a perspective other than our own sheds light on what outside forces and pressures have influenced the development of Judaism and on how relations between the different faith groups were possible and occurred. When we branch out from the at times all-encompassing world of Jewish texts, we gain a deeper sense of how and why Judaism and Jewishness evolved. In order to fully appreciate modern Judaism, we must grapple with our past in all its complexities, examining every angle and dimension—including canon law.

On Sunday, October 21, from 10:00-12:00, we will have a panel discussion on Conversion with Rabbi Marc Angel, Rabbi Hayyim Angel, and Rabbi Yona Reiss. It will be held at Lincoln Square Synagogue, 180 Amsterdam Avenue (68th Street) in Manhattan. For details, see our flyer at https://www.jewishideas.org/civicrm/event/info?reset=1&id=40

We have been significantly increasing our Teacher Training programs as we spread our vision into the Day School system and communities throughout the country. Two major areas of expansion this past year have been with our new Sephardic Initiative and the Ben Porat Yosef Yeshiva Day School in Paramus, New Jersey.

Sephardic Initiative:

The history and culture of Sephardim, Middle Eastern and North African Jews are relatively unknown to large numbers of Jews.  And when attempts are made to be inclusive, they generally relate to foods and music...and almost never to intellectual and spiritual contributions.

The Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals has launched a “Sephardic Initiative,” to promote a greater inclusiveness and “wholeness” in Jewish education.

We have sponsored two conferences for teachers in Jewish schools, from grades 7 through 12. In October 2017, 25 educators from nine schools in the New York City area participated. In March 2018, 15 educators from seven schools in the Los Angeles area participated. We are planning other conferences in cities throughout North America. These conferences provide practical information on how inclusiveness in Jewish education can be enhanced. Teachers engage in discussion and serious learning. Teachers are given publications to help them in their own study of Sephardic/pan-Sephardic civilization.  Teachers write reports on how they have gone on to implement a Sephardic component in their classes, and these reports are circulated among the group so that they can learn from each other.

The Institute is planning a series of publications that will provide readily accessible material for educators, as well as for the general public. We have recently reprinted our pamphlet “Exploring Sephardic Customs and Traditions,” and are in the process of arranging for other publications. We also will develop an online presence to support this initiative.

For more information, and to contribute to this effort, please see our website, ttps://www.jewishideas.org/article/our-institutes-sephardic-initiative.

Tanakh Teacher Training:

Since joining the Institute in 2013, I have conducted a number of teacher trainings in Tanakh education. The goal is to work with current and future rabbis and educators to promote a fully traditional, scholarly, integrated approach that is both spiritually nourishing and intellectually sound. There is a great thirst for this type of education and we are at the vanguard of promoting these values.

This past year, I worked with the senior administration at Ben Porat Yosef Yeshiva Day School in Paramus, New Jersey on a revolutionary new Tanakh curriculum. They will be rolling out the first phase, for grades 1-3, this coming year. You can read the newspaper article by Rabbi Saul Zucker (the Head of School at Ben Porat Yosef) in the Jewish Link of New Jersey at https://www.jewishlinknj.com/features/25472-fluency-and-mastery-beginning-with-foundations

We will continue to build on that success at Ben Porat Yosef in the coming year.

Since joining the Institute, I also have run teacher trainings at Yeshiva University’s Rabbinical School; The Graduate Program of Advanced Talmudic Study for Women (GPATS) of Yeshiva University; the Azrieli Graduate School for Jewish Education of Yeshiva University; Yeshivat Chovevei Torah Rabbinical School; Community Hebrew Academy of Toronto High School, Toronto, Canada; The Academy of Jewish Thought, Cape Town and Johannesburg, South Africa; Ramaz High School in New York City, and the Ida Crown Jewish Academy High School in Skokie, IL.

In addition to the teacher training programs, educators throughout the country see us as a critical address to discuss educational issues in the modern Jewish classroom.

It is a privilege to work with rabbis and educators to promote our Institute’s vision, and it also provides a multiplier effect to promote our dearest core values at the Institute as we collaborate with so many others dedicated to an improved Jewish Educational landscape.

As always, thank you for all of your support, and we will continue to spread our vision to the broader Jewish community.

Rabbi Hayyim Angel

National Scholar

Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals

Introduction

The contradiction between a monotheistic, faith-based worldview and a democratic worldview seems almost irreconcilable. This inherent contradiction comes about for two reasons. The first is the question of authority. A theocentric worldview places God at the center, with God being the source of authority, whereas a democratic worldview places the people at the center. In a theocentric worldview, the majority may not adopt decisions that are contrary to Jewish law; indeed, the Torah commands us not to follow the majority when the majority is acting inappropriately (Ex. 23:2). If the issue were merely one of how decisions are made and the principle of majority rule, then this problem could be resolved, at least on a practical level. However, there is a more fundamental problem: Western liberal democracy today is characterized by values that the majority categorically cannot annul. This list of values is a statement of those areas in which—notwithstanding the wishes or desires of the majority—the individual cannot be denied basic rights. The majority may not limit freedom of speech, of association, of occupation, of religion, and so on. These principles are supposed to be protected by a constitution, and by the courts’ interpretation of that constitution. A theocentric worldview, on the other hand, requires that, at times, individual rights be infringed, or posits a different set of rights than those commonly accepted. God’s commandments sometimes require that an individual’s freedom be curtailed, particularly when those commandments are obligatory upon that individual as a member of the Jewish collective.

The definition of the State of Israel as a Jewish, democratic state thus suffers, ostensibly, from a fundamental contradiction. There are two sources of authority—Judaism and democracy, and two different lists of areas that cannot be reshaped, even by the majority. What makes this conflict more aggravating is the language that is used. Those who speak for “Judaism” often claim that they cannot use the mediating terminology of democracy, which involves compromise, concession, and agreement; they are not presenting their own views, but representing standpoints that derive from a divine source, and that cannot be subject to negotiated agreement or compromise. Those who speak for democracy claim that there can be no authority whatsoever that is entitled to infringe on the rights of the individual.

Attempts to Resolve This Contradiction

This issue has beset the State of Israel since its inception, and a number of different proposals have been suggested to resolve the contradiction. Some sought to resolve it by demonstrating that Judaism, too, recognizes the power of the majority as the principal tool for determining or resolving disputes. They based themselves on sources that discuss the power of the majority, and on Jewish history, particularly the patterns of Jewish communal life, in which disputes were decided by virtue of the power of the kahal (community), rather than by virtue of religious authority.
Along those lines, there were some who noted that the Torah itself commanded the establishment of a royal regime, “like all the nations around me.” That is to say, the Torah’s teachings do not intervene in decisions on the appropriate form of government; rather, the Torah recognizes that what is accepted by the enlightened nations of the world is something appropriate for emulation by the Jewish people. The role of the Torah is to shape, in certain areas, whatever governmental framework is chosen, but not to determine the character of that government. In effect, this approach claims that Judaism has no problem with adopting democracy.

As noted above, this attempt seems to indicate a misunderstanding on the part of both extremes—democracy and halakha. On the one hand, modern democracy, in its present form, is not merely a formal tool for ruling on disputes by means of the majority. Rather, it constitutes a broad worldview, one that touches on human autonomy and freedom, individual rights, liberalism, and egalitarianism. Democratic people are educated, open, and independent; they enjoy freedom of communication, freedom of association, and freedom of expression. All of these are an integral part of democracy, and thus it is insufficient to rely only on halakhic sources that discuss the power of the majority. On the other hand, it is also incorrect to say that halakha recognizes an individual’s absolute autonomy, and grants the majority an unfettered right to make determinations. It is precisely the expression that teaches us the power of the majority, aharei rabim lehatot, that says exactly the opposite: “and do not respond to a grievance by yielding to the majority to pervert [the law]” (Ex. 23:2)).

The strongest proof for my argument regarding the apologetic nature of claims that Judaism accepts democracy is to put the following question to anyone who makes such a claim: What would be the position of “Judaism,” should the social structure of the State of Israel change, so that there would be a religious majority and a secular minority? Would halakha recognize the right of the minority to desecrate the Sabbath by traveling in private vehicles in public? Would halakha recognize freedom of expression, allowing even the most severe statements against the Torah, against halakha, and against the rabbinate? It should be remembered that this question is not merely hypothetical. If current demographic trends continue, the possibility of a religious majority is quite realistic. It is interesting to note that, as far as I know, not one halakhic discussion has taken place on the issue of halakhic policy in a situation in which a majority loyal to halakha is in power in the State, alongside a minority that is not halakhically observant. This question is exacerbated in light of the ancient Jewish sources that call for criminal sanctions against, for example, those who transgress the Sabbath laws. Once such a discussion develops, we will see the extent to which halakha has adopted democracy in the fullest sense of the word.

Another possibility, this time coming from the opposite direction, is attributed to the former president of the Israeli Supreme Court, Justice Aharon Barak. This approach claims that the term “Jewish” is subordinate to “democratic,” that is to say, the State of Israel should adopt only those values from Judaism that are consistent with democratic criteria. This position is more like lip service, since in effect it omits “Judaism” from the fundamental definition of the State of Israel. If every conflict between democracy and Judaism is resolved in favor of democracy, the real outcome is that the State of Israel will become a state that operates solely by virtue of universal values, leaving “Judaism” as mere window dressing for democracy, by offering some appropriate quotes from Jewish sources.

I would argue that we should call a halt to these attempts to reconcile the contradiction, as such a reconciliation would be impossible. As I wrote in the introduction to this essay, the contradiction derives from a fundamental polarization, and thus cannot be resolved using customary methods for conflict resolution. There are those who would argue that, once the State of Israel has a constitution, this contradiction will disappear. In response, one would first have to examine the proposed constitution to see if it indeed resolves the contradiction. In my opinion, no potential constitution for the State of Israel would be able to resolve this contradiction. If it is a “minimalist” constitution—without the inclusion of lists of rights and without a formal definition of the State of Israel as a Jewish state—it will not be able to resolve the contradiction. Rather, it will leave the questions to be resolved outside the constitutional framework. If the constitution also includes a list of rights, but not a preamble to the constitution (for example, the Declaration of Independence)—it will thus come down in the “democratic” direction, but it will not be an expression of the will of the absolute majority in the State of Israel, which wants the state to also be defined as a “Jewish” state. And if the constitution includes both a list of rights and the Declaration of Independence as a preamble, then it will have brought the contradiction back inside itself.

Hence, it seems that we need to concentrate our efforts elsewhere. This ongoing conflict between Jewish law and democracy will accompany the State of Israel as long as there are communities within it that oppose each other and that choose one of the two extremes. However, it is within our power to mitigate this conflict. We need to exert our efforts in an attempt to bring the two extremes closer together; even if we know that absolute harmony is impossible, an ongoing mitigation of this tension will allow the State of Israel to continue to exist. Furthermore, it will change that tension from a fundamental problem to an empowering challenge.

Possible Methods of Mitigation

I would argue that there are three methods that offer the possibility of significantly mitigating the tension.
The first approach is to reexamine some basic assumptions. Modern democracy does not in fact recognize the absolute sovereignty of the people; this leaves room for the acceptance of ideas from outside the human world. On the other hand, halakha offers room for human judicial autonomy in two ways—as a legislator and as an interpreter. Thus, the democratic point of view may accept some of religion’s positions, while religion itself will recognize just how great its own human component is, and thus not profess to speak in the name of an uncompromising divine standpoint.

The second approach is to examine the conflict between democracy and halakha in the area of their respective standpoints. There exists a mutual recognition of democratic values in Judaism, and of national values in democracy. The language of human rights is not foreign to Judaism, and the language of nationhood is not foreign in terms of democracy. These voices can thus be empowered to further mitigate the tension.

The third approach comes from the perspective of risk management. Even if we assume that the conflict we have described is a fundamental one, one that cannot be resolved through theology or political theory, halakha may still be willing to see democracy as a necessary evil to be accepted, simply because the alternative is worse, and vice versa. This third approach speaks in terms of practicality—the prevention of ongoing conflict by means of practical arrangements that, rather than solve the problem, simply find a way around it.

The First Approach—A Reevaluation of Basic Assumptions

A reevaluation of the basic assumption underlying the religious position: The claim that halakha views the Master of the Universe as the source of authority is indeed the core of religious belief. At the same time, two key perspectives point to individual autonomy and importance. The first is in the area of interpretation. Although the Torah is perceived as a divine source, it is a principle of halakha that the Torah has been given to humanity, and therefore humans must interpret it. Hence, the claim that halakha represents God’s viewpoint inflates the status of the halakhic authorities. Individuals have enormous room to maneuver and freedom of thought; so those who speak for halakha thus have the ability to engage in negotiation and dialogue over the approach of halakha, rather than suggesting that it is not open to discussion.

The second perspective is in the realm of legislation. There are sources that point to the considerable autonomy given to halakhic authorities, when they function not only as interpreters of the divine texts, but also as legislators of the halakhic approach. Hence, one cannot argue that Judaism is merely a matter of obeying the divine commands alone. Halakhic interpreters and legislators also include their own inner worldviews, their cultural perspectives, and the social milieu in which they live. Recognition of the specifically human components existing within the world of halakha allows a softening of the uncompromising, segregationist position sometimes presented as fundamental to the world of halakha.

A reevaluation of the basic assumption underlying the democratic position: Democracy presents itself as stating that it is the people who are the ultimate sovereign, and that the majority determines democratic behavior. However, a deeper analysis of today’s democratic standpoints indicates that not all powers are in the hands of the people, and thus it is not the people who should be seen as sovereign. The democracies of today—both on the philosophical level and on the practical, organizational level, as in the European Union—argue that there are universal values of “humankind,” against which even the majority may not act. There is deep division over the source and validity of those values, as well as their scope, but the very recognition that not everything can be determined by the people, and that there are general, universal values that are also binding on the majority is indisputable.

This structure allows one to argue that democracy may also be capable of adopting additional values that are not subject to majority decision, even if it appears that they detract from the principle of majority rule. These values may include religious values, and democracy may view them as a basis for national existence, beyond the principles of democracy. I am not arguing that religion is universal to the same extent as the universal lists of rights that we have discussed. My argument is that, once democracy accepts principles that are not subject solely to majority rule, the way is open for the entry of additional values within this framework.

Narrowing the gap between democracy and Jewish law does not totally eliminate it, nor does it create a system of authority that everyone can live with. There are two reasons for this, stemming from the two perspectives discussed above.

The first comes from the religious direction. Even though there is a greater recognition of the individual’s authority as interpreter and legislator, this does not eliminate the fact that, at its core, it is divine revelation that is the source of authority. Moreover, people of faith do not see themselves as legislating against the will of God, but merely as uncovering that will. The intent of people of faith is to achieve the most faithful interpretation of those categorical imperatives whose source is external to humanity. Hence, the freedom that these individuals can take for themselves is limited; they must constantly aim to clarify the exact requirements of the divine commands.

From a democratic perspective, too, one cannot see the gap being eliminated. Although there are values that are outside the purview of majority decision, these are nevertheless still based on human determination as sovereign, or on other human determining factors, such as international agreements. It would be difficult to add a religious perspective into this framework.

The Second Approach—Bringing Judaism and Democracy Closer Together

The gap between Jewish law and democracy may also be narrowed if we reexamine the possibility that halakha indeed recognizes elements that are fundamental to democracy—the language of rights. This recognition by halakha may come from either of two directions. One direction is the recognition by halakha of the derekh erets that preceded halakha, while the other possibility is that the foundations of the list of rights can be found within the halakha itself.

The statement that derekh erets preceded the Torah requires explanation. In using the term derekh erets, I am not referring to the present-day meaning of good manners, etiquette, and so on. Rather, I am referring to the term’s original meaning. In the language of the sages, the term derekh erets means the accepted, normal mode of conduct in the world. Derekh erets is synonymous with earning a living, conjugal relations, and the normal conventions of human behavior. One who adopts a life of derekh erets is one who follows the way of the world. The sages often spoke in praise of derekh erets, and of humans’ obligation to conduct themselves according to those principles.

The statement of the sages, that derekh erets preceded the Torah, therefore adopts human interaction within a normal, ordered state as being the norm. When human beings adopt a set of rights, this need not necessarily derive from halakha, but from human determinations as to appropriate, normative behavior. It is this spirit that pervades the words of the prophets. They spoke constantly of the obligation to act justly and honestly, with fairness and social sensitivity. This is far beyond the strict realm of halakha, and imposes much higher standards than those imposed by the law. When the “Jewish” side of the “Jewish, democratic state” equation sees itself as obligated to the world’s universal values, we can see this as mitigating the enormous tension between the two worlds.

Furthermore, the list of rights is integral to the world of halakha itself. What needs to be emphasized is that halakha, in general, does not speak in terms of rights, but rather in terms of duties. Halakha does not say that a person has a right to a good reputation, but it does impose an obligation on others not to slander or embarrass him; it does not relate to the right of the poor to a decent living, but it obligates the community to care for the weaker members of society; it does not deal with the rights of parents over their children, but rather it addresses the obligations of children toward their parents; and so on.

Thus, one cannot simply transfer the language of halakha into the language of democracy. However, the very fact that halakha imposes numerous obligations toward the “other” is an indication of the way in which the Jewish aspect of the State can be shaped in this spirit. Furthermore, Judaism is not limited to halakha alone. The words of the prophets, who made the moral framework into the basis for society, and who argued that God measures society primarily through how it treats its weaker members, reinforce further the possibility of bringing the “Jewish” and “democratic” sides closer together.

This would be an opportunity to comment on an important aspect of this issue. In general, when we think of Israel as a “Jewish” state, we tend to look solely at those areas that are between man and God—marriage and divorce, kashruth, Shabbat, and so on. However, the Torah and Jewish tradition also deal at length with questions of social justice, and the prophets made these issues fundamental to the nation’s existence. What we need is a significant change in the public’s perception of what Judaism is about, with an emphasis on the State of Israel as a state in which justice and welfare are goals common to all parties to this debate. Such a conceptual shift could also play its part in reducing the tensions between the two sides.

Democracy, too, must play its part in bringing the two sides closer together. Although it is essential to ensure that individual rights are protected, it is also important to recognize the rights of the collective to define its own public domain. The democratic idea may thus also be consistent with the idea of the nation state, and with the desire of the broader community to choose its own road in the spirit of its unique communal nature.

As we have mentioned, there is an ongoing debate within the State of Israel in regard to the constitution that is taking shape. One of the issues being debated is whether such a constitution will also include a “preamble,” and whether Israel’s Declaration of Independence, or some similar document, will thus become an integral part of the constitution. If the State of Israel indeed rejects the radical, Western, liberal model, which denies the right of the national state to exist, and instead adopts a softer democratic approach, there is a good chance for reducing the tension between state and religion, since the State itself can encompass significant elements of religious, national identity.

The Third Approach—Practicality

These two approaches together do not totally eliminate the contradiction. They blur it, and allow the coexistence of various perceptions of the nature of the state. The State of Israel will nonetheless need to resolve the gap that remains between democratic life and Judaism through practical means. Most of the Jewish citizens of the State of Israel, who constitute the absolute majority within the state, have a deeply held connection with both democratic ideals and their desire that the State of Israel be a Jewish state, even if they have not defined exactly which Jewish foundations they wish the state to apply. Furthermore, both those who tend toward the “democratic” position and those who lean toward the “Jewish” position recognize that there are those who disagree with their own opinion, and understand that any resolution cannot be imposed coercively.

The recognition that it is not possible to determine the nature of the state merely by means of a chance majority vote in the Knesset, and that this internal debate is deep-seated and may last for many years to come, has led many to abandon any attempt to end the debate through political means. Moreover, that the State of Israel is the only state in the world that is constantly under threat from elements that negate its very existence, reinforces its citizens’ sense that they are in a life or death situation, and their understanding that national unity is more important than resolving questions of religion and state. Most of the state’s citizens understand the need to be practical. Too great a gap between fundamental conceptions or ideology, and any constitution that may be adopted, cannot continue to exist for long, and may even endanger the existence of the State of Israel.

Hence it is possible that the status quo may persist for a long time. I would hazard the opinion that the process of adopting a constitution for the State of Israel will be characterized by one of two possibilities. The more likely possibility is that the State of Israel will remain without a constitution, or, at least, without the inclusion of articles in the constitution to regulate the issues of religion and state.

The second possibility is that a constitution will be adopted without broad consent; in that case, it will, in effect, not have any real meaning, because of the enormous gap between reality and the text of the constitution. On the other hand, a continuation of the status quo, albeit with mutual restraint on the part of both sides, appears to be the most reasonable—and perhaps even the most correct—thing to do.

From the side of the supporters of “Judaism,” this restraint will come from two directions. The first is a recognition of the limitations of power, and a recognition that the ideas of man’s freedom and autonomy do not permit broad religious legislation, or allow the imposition of religious principles under the auspices of the law. This fact is beginning to be assimilated within religious society. Religious society has learned that, notwithstanding existing legislation (for example) in the area of family law, many secular couples choose not to establish their homes in the manner that the law attempts to impose on them; on the contrary, they find numerous ways around the law. This is also true of other laws, such as the laws relating to Shabbat rest. A second direction from which restraint will come is internal to the religious community. Religious thought will begin to recognize that too close a connection between the state and religion harms religion itself. This is for various reasons: religious authorities are less than free to rule, because, in effect, religious rulings are subject to the High Court and other state institutions; a religion that depends on the law makes itself distasteful to the community; it is particularly in those observances to which no legislation applies (for example, observance of the Passover Seder, Yom Kippur, circumcision) that the power of religion is greater; and, in general, it is not clear whether there is religious significance to keeping the commandments by virtue of secular legislation, and so religion itself might not be interested in coercive arrangements under the auspices of the law, except to a very limited extent.

From the other side, that of “democracy,” restraint will come from a recognition of the enormous significance that Israeli society attributes to Jewish values. The Supreme Court is ultimately a reflection of the society within which it operates, and it cannot continue making “Judaism” subject solely to democratic values. And if the Court does not do so of its own accord, Knesset legislation may force it to do so; indeed, we already see signs of this in other spheres, for better or for worse. A Supreme Court that restrains itself, while strictly protecting human rights and maintaining limitations on the collective, is a necessary condition for restraint.

I believe that the three approaches to mitigation proposed above will permit coexistence in the State of Israel, and may even be a blessing for the unique, almost untenable, path taken by the “Jewish, democratic state,” which is ultimately an expression of the cultural uniqueness of the State of Israel. I believe that if we give up our pretensions of being able to solve the problem in absolute terms, and accept the anomaly of “Jewish and democratic” as a special Israeli challenge, different from those faced by other countries, this tension may have an ongoing positive influence on both opposing sides, and we will all ultimately benefit.

I recently read an article in the Internet based Magazine “Psychology Today”. It was written by the Swedish psychologist Guy Winch, who does research about loneliness, that nasty depressing feeling that affects close to an estimated 50% of humanity in a serious way. We all know that feeling lonely affects us emotionally; it makes us sad. But what is less known, research shows, is that it makes us see reality in a more negative light than necessary, including our relationships, our friends and family.

Believe it or not, it also has an impact on our bodies. It lowers our body temperature, we literally feel left in the cold! At the same time, it also raises our blood pressure and our cholesterol, thereby creating a higher risk of cardiovascular disease. Our immune system drops, leaving us more vulnerable to getting sick... In short, loneliness causes considerable psychological AND physical stress, even leading to a risk of early death by 14%, the same level as that of smoking cigarettes.
All this as the result of a lack of feeling connected.

Being connected is a deep need in all of us human beings. That’s why the modern ways of communication were adopted all over the world adopted so easily.  Through Facebook, Instagram and Skype, people want to be constantly connected to others anywhere on the globe, all the time.
Not that this level of connection is always of a deep and high quality, but the need in itself to feel connected to others, near and far, is innate to us, and to some extent actually healthy and necessary..
The need to feel connected is very easy to see with children.  When my children were little, I remember playing hide and seek. I counted down, they would hide, and when I found them, being found for them was the most joyful thing.

This need is not only the case with humans. Animals that are kept alone without attention, become depressed and wither away just the same. They need to feel connected also in order to survive. 

Did anyone ever get your goat?  We all know what it means.  It means that that person made us annoyed, or even angry.  What where did the expression come from?  There are a few different theories, but most opinions hold that it comes from the world of race horses. A race horse has to be in optimal condition for it to win a race.  Horses are kept in their box, and a horse that is alone becomes nervous and anxious, which is of course counterproductive.  So in order calm the horse down, they would put a goat with it in the box, to keep it company.  If you wanted to undermine the condition of your competitor's horse, you could sneak into the stable and 'get his goat'.  An interesting illustration of how horse racers have realized for a long time that loneliness affects animals as well.

But it doesn't stop there.  Plants grow better when around other plants. (Some people talk to them, to make them grow better, but I am not sure what Maimonides would say about that).

Even micro-organisms such as bacteria cannot survive on their own. There is no need to fear the invasion of one single harmful bacteria in your body. It simply will not survive without the company of others surrounding it. Very soon it will go into apoptosis; a fancy word for spontaneous self-destruction, in other words suicide.  That is what loneliness does.  This shows why solitary confinement is actually one of the cruelest punishments imaginable.

This all sounds pretty depressing perhaps, but I believe that knowing this can teach us an important lesson for Yom Kippur. In English we translate Yom Kippur as “Day of Atonement”. Interestingly, in Dutch, it is called 'Grote Verzoendag', which means the “Great Day of Reconciliation”.
This is profound. There is a rift, a separation, between God and man, between people among themselves, which causes a disconnect; loneliness.
And today we are offered a chance for reconciliation, to repair that disconnect.

During our prayers and introspection, we stand next to each other and feel connected. On this day we reach out again to God and our fellow neighbors.
Starting today, we should seriously work on just that, bridge the separation, reach out to others, show them, make them feel that they belong, that we all belong to each other.

One last thing: At the end of tonight’s prayers, we will hear the Shofar. The significance is extremely powerful.
There have been musical instruments around throughout history, some of them mentioned in our Bible.
But all instruments have been developed and changed throughout the years.
Our harp doesn’t sound like David’s harp did.
Our lyre is not the ancient the same as the ancient lyre.
We do not know what the Biblical timbrels and cymbals sounded like.

But the Shofar has not been changed.
When we hear the Shofar, we hear the same sound as our people did in the days of Moses.  It enters our ears and brains the same way as it did for Samuel and David. That same sound rings timelessly through the ages of the First and Second Temple, the time of Bar Kokhba, the era of Maimonides. It is heard in faraway communities from Amsterdam to Morocco, Tunisia, Syria, Persia, Cochin. Even in Poland and Lithuania! We can hear the same sound that our people heard in every time and land.

The sound of the Shofar, and our prayers, can lift up our souls above our limited time and space and connect us with God and with our entire people, anytime, anywhere.

                               The Great Escape: How and Why Most Arab States Became Judenfrei

By Peter Schotten

Dr. Peter Schotten is emeritus professor of Government and International Affairs at Augustana University (Sioux Falls, South Dakota).

Review Essay: Lyn Julius, Uprooted: How 3000 Years of Jewish Civilization in the Arab World Vanished Overnight (London: Vallentine Mitchell, 2018).

Other Books Discussed:

Martin Gilbert, A History of Jews in Muslim Lands (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2010).

Joshua Muravchik, Making David into Goliath: How the World Turned Against Israel (New York: Encounter Books, 2014).

     Israel has become a victim of its own success.  Initially, Its 1948 founding was celebrated by much of the western world.  Israel's modern realization represented a triumph of heroic tenacity as well as the advancement of the laudable political principles of freedom and self-determination.   Even more important, Israel's newly won statehood proudly proclaimed the survival of a Judaism that had faced extinction from an unfathomable Nazi evil.  The early flourishing of the Israeli political and economic experiment, especially after its first days when it fought and won a war of national survival against numerous Arab nations, proved as improbable as its founding.  Despite a bevy of predictable social, economic and political challenges, a fair-minded observer of Israel's early history and world standing would conclude that everything, or nearly everything crucial, had gone right. 

     Of course it was all too good to last.  Seventy years later, Israel continues to prosper amidst serious obstacles in one of the world's toughest neighborhoods.  But, in the meantime, its reputation has declined precipitously.  Once almost universally admired, Israel today is routinely denounced and derided.  How and why this happened is analyzed skillfully and successfully by Joshua Muravchik in Making David Into Goliath: How the World Turned Against Israel.   According to Muravchik, much of Israel's reputation problem could be attributed to its very flourishing.    Israel's robust democracy had produced an adversary culture, which from time to time challenged the very legitimacy of the Israeli state.  Ever confident, Israel acted assertively and controversially. For example, Israel's widely criticized 1982 military campaign in Lebanon against the PLO constituted a leading example of such an act. But perhaps the most decisive turning point had been Israel's decisive victory in the 1967 Six Days War.   Prior to the War, Israel was seen as inferior  to the Arab states by any measure--population, territory, military, natural resources and national wealth.  After Israel's decisive victory with its newly-won expanded borders, Israel would never again be uniformly seen as the sympathetic underdog.   No longer would it be the powerful Arabs versus Israel, the beleaguered Jewish state.   Now Middle East politics would be increasingly cast as the mighty Israeli versus the persecuted, oppressed, occupied and dispossessed Palestinians.

     Muravchik points out that while all this was happening the left's progressive ideology was adapting to a post-cold war world. The evils of imperialism and colonialism--understood as the exploitation of weak, economically poor people by wealthy powerful western nations-- was reemphasized.   Simultaneously, crude Marxist theory was expanded to include membership in oppressed victim classes based upon their minority identity and racial claims.  The inchoate but oft repeated slogans that Zionism is racism or that Israel had become an apartheid nation-state are practical applications of this reformulated progressive ideology.

      This Middle East reevaluation was one manifestation of a much larger postmodern understanding that challenged the value of western civilization at its core. Regarding Israel and the Palestinians specifically, its most influential spokesman of this viewpoint proved to be a Columbia literature Professor, Edward Said .  Muravchik titled his chapter on this topic "Edward Said Conquers Academia for Palestine" and neither his title nor his discussion exaggerated Said's intellectual influence.  The successful casting of Palestinians as the principle victim of Western viciousness and indifference yielded immediate practical advantages. Victims are entitled to sympathy and compassion.  Furthermore, it is sometimes (falsely) believed that victims-- traumatized by their suffering--bear no moral responsibility for their acts.  In such a moral universe, terrorist acts against civilians and apocalyptic eliminationist rhetoric were justified as actions and voices of the desperate.  Numerous NGOs, churches, socialist alliances, organizations and human rights organization were so persuaded as they increasingly offered rhetorical and financial support for the Palestinian cause. The European left initially led the way, but in time the popularity of  this point of view became increasingly mainstream.   

      Although Israel's declining reputation can be traced to its successes seen through the lenses of its critics, some of the blame may also be attributed to Israel's inaction.  Muravchik indirectly perceives this in a single sentence in his book.  There he argues that the original displaced Palestinians and their descendants have maintained the status quo only to keep alive the Palestinian  claim of right of return (which would effectively end Israel as we know it).  Otherwise, he argues, the refugees could be easily absorbed by surrounding countries who share a similar language, religion and culture.  Then there is that one pregnant sentence: " Resettlement would have been far easier, for example, than Israel's integration of an equivalent number of Jews fleeing or expelled from the Arab countries at the same time, whose language was not Hebrew but Arabic."

     According to Lyn Julius, in her newly published Uprooted: How 3000 Years of Jewish Civilization in the Arab World Vanished Overnight, it is this forced Jewish flight from Arab lands primarily in the twentieth century that constitutes one of the  most consequential stories of religious persecution hardly ever told.  Obviously, Arab states have not spoken of this phenomenon.  But, as the author points out, there has also been relatively little discussion by the Israeli government or by the refugees and their families.  The author wishes to remedy this omission.  As the daughter of Jewish Iraqi refugees, she cares passionately  about the topic. Julius is appalled by the general ignorance regarding the history of Jews and religious minorities in Arab lands and equally upset about the widespread acceptance of the progressive account of the Middle East that exclusively focuses upon Israel’s alleged Palestinian victims.  Thus, Uprooted is an attempt to both inform the reader about Jewish history in Arab lands while arguing in favor of a more comprehensive and nuanced understanding of Northern Africa and Middle East history and politics that affected that relationship.  The author is largely successful on both fronts.

      Julius' tone is occasionally polemical as she explicates history in the service of refuting the reigning leftist narrative.  She adopts the contemporary leftist language of political oppression, lest anyone miss her meaning or her irony.  Jews were an indigenous people in what were to become Arab lands.  They lived there for a millennium before those lands were conquered by Mohammed in the 7th century. Afterwards, Muslim colonialism became the political norm of Jewish-Arab relationships in Arab lands for approximately a thousand years.  When Islamic states made life intolerable for Jews and forced their exile, Julius labels it the Jewish Nakba.  Lest anyone miss the import of her words, she also persistently describes the involuntary exile of Jews from Arab lands as a notable instance of ethnic cleansing. 

     Obviously, Jewish life under a thousand years of Islamic rule in different lands varied widely.  Murderous violence and forced slavery represented one extreme; extended periods of Islamic toleration toward Jews amidst their participation in the professions and in government were the high point.  The constant was dhimmi status, a kind of second class citizenship that was accorded Jews (and Christians) by Muslim rulers in the name of toleration.  Almost everything about this time period proves controversial and Julius cites a variety of interpretations by different authorities.  But the author will have no part of the notion that the toleration extended to Jews constituted good or respectful treatment.  Peaceful co-existence between the two religions is a myth. Her point-of-view is well captured by her opening quotation at the front of the book.  Citing Thomas Paine in The Rights of Man, she writes that toleration "is not the opposite of Intoleration, but is the counterfeit of it" for both "are despotisms."  Regarding those worst moments in Islamic-Jewish relations, Julius' observations are equally critical. Excepting Stalin, Hitler's and Pol Pot's 20th century genocides, she comments "a comparison between pogroms in the Christian and the Muslim worlds are not easy to make, but Albert Memmi claims that, if you put all the pogroms end to end, you finish up with a picture of violence little different to that perpetuated under Christendom."

     European colonialism would replace Islamic colonialism beginning in the nineteenth century.  It too would profoundly affect the lives of Jews living these Arab lands.  Although colonialism has become a term of unqualified opprobrium, Julius supplies a rather different perspective. According to her, the European version somewhat improved the lives of Jews in Arab lands by weakening the dhimmi social structure within the Islamic states they governed.  To be sure, the lives of Jews living under such circumstances varied over time from country to country but were always very short of idyllic. The safety and well-being of Jews, as well as Jewish -Arab relations, were simply one of many problems facing European colonial rulers that needed managing in so far as they could not be completely ignored..

      According to Julius, the most important factor defining Jewish-Arab relations through history is Islam's hostility toward other religions and peoples.  "Muslim minorities can only be accepted in Arab Muslim society by surrendering their distinctive identity" asserts Julius.  Accordingly, these peoples "must cease beings themselves."  Generally, the effects of Islam's bigotry can be observed in its historical treatment of oppressed minorities including Berbers, Copts, Assyrians and Kurds.  Specifically, in Julius' opinion, the animating cause of Arab-Jewish relations remains Islamic anti-Semitism (i. e. anti-Jewish prejudice).  Its persistence holds the key to understanding past and present in the Middle East.

     It is here where Europe--and particularly European ideas--adversely affected Middle East and North African Jews.  In the 20th century, Islamic anti-Semitism became infected with, and ultimately conflated with, European anti-Semitism generally, and Nazi ideology specifically. "Traditionally, Jews were feminized in the Muslim imagination as being cowardly, submissive and unable to stand up for themselves."  But Julius notes this attitudinal transformation had a disconcerting and dangerous effect: "as a result of saturation-levels of media and mosque anti-Semitic brainwashing, these stereotypes have been corrupted and replaced by the European concepts of the demonic, manipulative and all-powerful Jew."

     Relying upon the scholarship of academics like Jeffrey Herf and especially Matthias Küntzel, Julius emphasizes the great extent and profound effect of the collaboration between Nazi and Arab leadership during World War II.   Two individuals are highlighted.  Amin al-Husseini, the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem, was widely regarded as the leader of the Arab world.  Rabidly anti-Jewish, the Grand Mufti spent World War II collaborating with the Nazis seeking to advance their genocidal agenda.  Making common cause with the Nazis and the Grand Mufti also was Hassan al-Banna, the founder of the Muslim Brotherhood.  Al-Banna was another fanatical anti-Semite.  During World War II, he helped create a substantial Arab  army while glorifying martyrdom as a rationale for  violence. According to Julius, both these individuals in numerous ways influenced Arab and Palestinian politics for decades.

      Julius's discussion of the changing face of Islamic anti-Semitism serves to undergird an important conclusion: Zionism was not the cause of Islamic hostility toward Jews in Arab lands.  Anti-Semitism, in various forms, preceded Zionist sentiment in those countries.  So did adverse living conditions.  Nonetheless, Mideast Jews' alleged support of the Zionist cause became another name for traitor as well as an excuse for their persecution in Arab nations, particularly after the 1948 war. Then, as Julius notes, "Jews in Arab lands were victimized purely for sharing the same religion and ethnicity as the Israelis." 

     The 1948 war displaced approximately 700,000 Arab residents.  Arab states responded ruthlessly to the lost war and to the newly displaced Arab refugees by undertaking systematic and bold oppressive measures against their Jewish citizens.  Their citizenship was stripped, arrests and detentions took place, religious restrictions were imposed, freedom of movement was curtailed, assets were frozen and property seized, employment opportunities were closed off and Zionism was criminalized.  Jews, who had left their nations in far smaller numbers before, now fled in astounding numbers.  Approximately 850,000 were driven out of their homes.  Generally, the more affluent went to Europe and the United States.  The other 650,000 or so went to Israel. Today, these Mideast and North African Jews constitute just over half of Israel's Jewish population. Conversely, many Arab nations at the same time became Judenfrei.  In 1948, Algeria had 140,000 Jews; by 2016 there were none.  During that same time, Egypt's Jewish population declined from 75,000 to less than 15.  Similar figures for Iraq show a reduction from 150,000 Jews to 5.  Libya had 38,000 Jews in 1946; today there are no Jews at all there.  Syria's Jewish population shrank from 30,000 to less than 15.  Tunisia went from 105,000 Jews to 1,000 while Yemen's Jewish population dwindled to 50.  Symbolic of all that happened is this fact: in Cairo today, the Swiss, German, Canadian, Dutch, South Korean and Pakistani embassies all occupy the homes of wealthy expelled Jews.

     Julius simultaneously emphasizes the heroic efforts undertaken by the newly created Jewish state on behalf of its new refugees as well as the formidable cultural and economic challenges the refugees immediately faced. The early days were characterized by remarkable Israeli airlifts and the creation of numerous transit camps consisting of fabric tents and wooden or tin huts.  Chaos, poverty and illness in the camps were the norm.  Furthermore, the integration of this immigrant population into the Israeli mainstream proved far from seamless.  Cultural and class differences were pronounced between the European Jews who had founded Israel and the Jewish refugees who had fled their Arab dominated homelands and brought with them utterly different customs and traditions. Julius quotes one refugee who accurately reflects this mindset: "We left Iraq as Jews and entered Israel as Iraqis."

     These refugees are Julius' people and her cause.  They are a victimized group who have been mostly ignored, if not forgotten, by history.  No United Nations resolutions have been passed on their behalf.  Nor has a right of return or reparations been championed on their behalf.  Having become successfully integrated into a thriving Israeli society, the world has deemed their past suffering irrelevant, while Palestinians Arab refugees (and their descendants) are still held to be victims of oppression.  Interestingly, Israel gets no credit for its successful social policy success while receiving constant world condemnation for the continued suffering of Palestinian refugees.  This inconsistency proves particularly troubling in light of the origin of the area's refugee problem.  To that end, Julius writes that two victim populations "arose out of the Arab-Israeli conflict, and the Arab leadership bears responsibility for needlessly causing both Nakbas -- the Jewish and the Arab."   Why?  Had the Arab leadership accepted the 1947 United Nations Partition Resolution rather than resorting to war then neither Jewish nor Arab refugees would have existed.

     Julius' Uprooted reads like a historical brief dedicated to vindicating the memory of Jewish refugees in Arab lands.  She informs or reminds her readers of the importance of her subject while demonstrating that the reigning leftist narrative of unending Israeli persecution of Palestinian refugees is simplistic if not utterly misleading.  In this respect, her book performs a valuable educative service.  When evaluating Julius's work, the vast chronological and geographical scale of her undertaking should be kept in mind.  The author's attempt to supply a comprehensible historical account of Jewish life under Islamic rule as background to Jewish refugee problem proves to be a formidable task.  This challenge helps explain most of the small annoyances that even a sympathetic reader may feel.  Uprooted is organized historically, with each chronological period defined by a specific idea or motif.  Still, these two organizational principles do not always neatly fit together, making the book a bit of an uneven read.  For example, the myth that grassroots efforts today are able to bring Jews and Palestinians together is  criticized early in a chapter dealing  largely  with the e myth of peaceful and even wholesome coexistence between Jews and Muslims that historically existed in Arab lands.  Almost 200 pages later, the subject is revisited with different examples in the book's final chapter, "Myths, Lies and Omissions."  More generally, Julius' chapter discussions encompass wide swaths of time and place and it is not always obvious which of these are specifically encompassed by a number of her broad generalizations. Numbers she provides also can be conflicting.  In most (but not all) cases, the author acknowledges this by making reference to the different sources from which they derive.  Unfortunately she usually makes no effort to explain more fully or reconcile such differences.  An additional concern is that sourcing in places proves shallow or not authoritative.  Finally, there is an occasional confusion or two.  For, example, consider Julius' claim that the "theories of Jean-Francois Revel, Michael Foucault and Edward Said hover in the background of many a 'progressive' Westerners'  view of the Middle East."   Equating Said and Revel appears to be hopelessly mistaken on its face. The only way to rescue this quotation would be If the author is relying on some little known work of Revel.  If so, at a minimum, the author owes us at least a citation, if not an explanation.  

     Julius acknowledges the academic elephant in the room in a single sentence:  "Only a handful of Western historians specialize in the Jews from the Middle East and North Africa, and their work rarely penetrates the mainstream, with the possible exception of Sir Martin Gilbert's In Ishmael's House, published in 2010."  But Gilbert's work, whose subtitle is "A History of Jews in Muslim Lands" is foundational and I have no doubt Julius relies upon it a great deal, even if that reliance is implicit.  Of the two books, Gilbert's is more judicious generally and less condemning of Islam and Islamic anti-Judaism specifically (although it is important to point out that he makes no effort to whitewash it either).  On this matter, there is a simple difference of emphasis between the two authors.  However, it is fair to say that Gilbert's In Ishmael's House is much less polemical than is Julius' Uprooted.  Furthermore, Gilbert's geographical scope is larger.  He discusses a greater number of countries than does Julius (for example, he references Afghanistan and Iran).  The development of Gilbert's book tracks historically and therefore  is straightforward. He does a masterful job of presenting his ideas clearly and contextually.  As might be expected from such a distinguished historian, Gilbert's use of academic sources is exemplary. 

     Anyone interested in the problem of Jewish refugees from Arab lands ought to read both these books.  Most readers will learn a great deal from them.  On the theory that life is short, and many of the readers of this article are not wanting for things to do, it must be said that Julius' Uprooted does not replace Martin Gilbert's In Ishmael's House as the standard work on this subject. 

     Still, Lyn Julius' book serves an important purpose at a time when history has become a routine propaganda tool of ideological movements, particularly on the left. Julius demonstrates that the oft-repeated tale of Arab Palestinian suffering  at the hands of a racist Israel proves utterly misleading as a comprehensive account of Middle East politics in general, or of Israel in particular. Race was not a factor in the Arab persecution of their Middle East Jewish population.  This largely ignored Jewish refugee population had deep ancestral roots in the area and were racially indistinguishable from the Arab governments that dispossessed them. Conversely, Jews of all skin colors were welcomed into Israel.  And while their integration into Israeli life was full of stumbles and missteps, that nation's effort often was also heroic and inspiring.  It turns out that by describing the plight of Jewish refugees at a time when the Middle East was inundated by refugees caused by unnecessary warfare, she has also helped rescue Israel from oft-repeated but utterly irresponsible accusations of colonialism, racism and systematic evil-doing.

     Here is one more thing to consider. If the debate over the status of Palestinian and Jewish refugees (not to mention the status of Israel's Arab citizens) ultimately points to the merit and worth of Israel as a political experiment, It is no accident that current animus toward Israel unites enthusiasts of political Islam and radical western progressive thought even though they share radically different and fundamentally incompatible notions of what constitutes the good life.  What unites them, as has often been pointed out, is a passionate loathing of the West.    This is the sense behind the oft quoted Iranian mantra that the United States is the big Satan and Israel is the little Satan. The slogan recognizes that Israel, in many ways is the prototypical western country.  It stands as a proxy for western civilization.  Israel's foundational political ideas are derived from enlightenment ideas and encompasses a respect for majority rule, individual rights and the rule of law. Additionally, Israel embodies the outward directed modern western mindset of what V. S. Naipaul called the West's "universal society".  This state of mind alone seeks to understand and engage the world while exercising "idea of individual responsibility, choice, the life of the intellect, the idea of vocation and perfectibility and achievement."   Simultaneously, Jerusalem today also endures as the West's continuing symbol of religion and revelation. Like Athens, its memory and presence continue to form, inform and energize Western civilization. Little wonder that Israel is so often singled out for condemnation by a postmodern political ideology that rejects the worth of Western Civilization as well as its underlying understanding of reason and revelation as central to human life.  This ideological perspective would substitute in their place the primacy of emotion--particularly the emotion of a moral revulsion rooted in the application of identity politics to so-called oppressed peoples.  Lyn Julius demonstrates that one possible object of this revulsion--Israel's Middle Eastern Jews--should be understood as a sympathetic people rather than condemned as a blameworthy part of a morally reprehensible state.  For that reason alone, she deserves our gratitude.   

We are about to embark on a year of expansion in our programming for the Institute. We continue to build on our previous successes but also intend to expand our reach and impact throughout the community.

NEW COMMUNAL SYMPOSIA

We are planning two communal symposia over the coming year, with the goal of promoting our core values in conjunction with respectful communal dialogue and conversation. On Sunday, October 21, we will launch this new initiative with a conversation about “Conversion to Judaism: What is Best for the Jewish People?” The panel will feature our Founder and Director, Rabbi Marc D. Angel, who has placed the issue of conversion at the heart of his work for nearly fifty years. He will be joined by Rabbi Yona Reiss, Head of the Chicago Beth Din and the Director of the Rabbinical Council of America’s conversion courts. I will be introducing and moderating the discussion. The program is free and open to the public, and will be held from 10:00 am-12:00 pm at Lincoln Square Synagogue in Manhattan (68^th and Amsterdam Avenue). For more information, please see the flyer at https://www.jewishideas.org/conversion-judaism-0.

We will hold another conversation panel on Sunday, February 10, on an exploration of what we can do in our Torah communities and educational systems to increase the fostering of ethical behavior and attitudes.

TEACHER TRAINING: SEPHARDIC INITIATIVE

We have been significantly increasing our Teacher Training programs as we spread our vision into the Day School system and communities throughout the country. Two major areas of expansion this past year have been with our new Sephardic Initiative and the Ben Porat Yosef Yeshiva Day School in Paramus, New Jersey.

The history and culture of Sephardim, Middle Eastern and North African Jews are relatively unknown to large numbers of Jews.  And when attempts are made to be inclusive, they generally relate to foods and music...and almost never to intellectual and spiritual contributions.

The Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals has launched a “Sephardic Initiative,” to promote a greater inclusiveness and “wholeness” in Jewish education.

Our next Teacher Training will be held on Sunday, November 4, in cooperation with the Sephardic Educational Center and Ben Porat Yosef Yeshiva Day School. It will be geared to teachers of grades 3-8. This conference will provide practical information on how inclusiveness in Jewish education can be enhanced. Teachers engage in discussion and serious learning. Teachers will be given publications to help them in their own study of Sephardic/pan-Sephardic civilization.  Teachers will write reports on how they have gone on to implement a Sephardic component in their classes, and these reports will then be circulated among the group so that they can learn from each other.

For more information, and to contribute to this effort, please see our website, https://www.jewishideas.org/article/our-institutes-sephardic-initiative.

UNIVERSITY NETWORK

We are off to a new year at our University Network, and look forward to reporting on the programs run by our Campus Fellows. We are excited to welcome our newest Fellows:

Yona Benjamin (Columbia University)

Mikey Pollack (University of Maryland)

Aryeh Roberts (University of Maryland)

Ora Friedman (Stern College, Yeshiva University)

Yoni Gutenmacher (University of Pennsylvania)

Daniel Fridman (Yale University)

For more about our University Network, see our website at https://www.jewishideas.org/university-network

COMMUNUAL EDUCATIONAL PROGRAMS

I continue to run educational programs to promote our core values in the broader community. This coming year, I am scheduled to be a scholar-in residence in the DAT Minyan, Denver Colorado (September 30-October 2), the Young Israel of Teaneck, New Jersey (November 30-December 1), and the Boca Raton Synagogue in Florida (March 22-23).

I also am developing new adult education mini-courses for the fall:

On Wednesday, September 5, I gave a High Holiday class on the Books of Jonah and Joel at Lamdeinu, Teaneck.

On Tuesdays, October 9, 16, 23, 30, 2:00-3:00 pm, I will give a four-part series on the Religious Significance of the Land of Israel in the Bible. In this series, we will get to the heart of the central values in the Torah and the Prophets pertaining to the people of Israel and the Land of Israel. Through the study of key biblical texts and rabbinic interpretations, we will build a foundation that informs all later discussions of the religious significance of the Land of Israel for the Jewish people. Classes are run by the Sephardic Community Alliance, and are held at Congregation Beth Torah, 1061 Ocean Parkway in Brooklyn, New York.

On Mondays, November 5, 12, 19, 26, 1:00-2:15 pm, I will give a four-part series on the Books of Ezra-Nehemiah: Ezra and Nehemiah: A New Kind of Leadership. An in-depth look at Tanakh’s last two leaders. We will consider the primary texts in Ezra-Nehemiah, and see how Ezra and Nehemiah each helped shape the future of Judaism after prophecy stopped. This course is with Lamdeinu, Teaneck, and held at 950 Queen Anne Road, in Teaneck, New Jersey. For registration information, go to www.lamdeinu.org.

As always, thank you for all of your support, and we will continue to spread our vision to educators, university students, and the broader Jewish community in the coming year.

Shanah Tovah,

Rabbi Hayyim Angel

National Scholar

Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals

JEWISH MINDS FOR HUMAN KIND

Class with Rabbi Marc D. Angel

Tuesday mornings, beginning October 9, 2018

At the Institute’s office in the Apple Bank building, 2100 Broadway, mezzanine

Bank opens 8:30; Class begins 8:40—coffee, tea and Danish are provided

We will be studying the writings of modern Jewish thinkers and writers who have had a significant impact on society at large. Among them are Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Lionel Trilling, Ayn Rand, Elias Canetti, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, Isaiah Berlin, Saul Bellow, Betty Friedan, Simone Veil and Elie Wiesel. The class will focus on the Jewish components in their work, and also on how their writings have impacted on modern culture.

The class is offered free of charge, as a service of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals.

ADVANCE REGISTRATION IS REQUESTED: If you wish to join the class, please let us know by emailing   [email protected]