Parashat Bemidbar (5761)

With God's help, on the eve of the holy Sabbath of Parashat Bemidbar, 5761

In Praise of Sectoral Distinctiveness: Educational Pluralism versus Education for Pluralism

Parashat Bemidbar deals with dividing the people into its tribes, with the different locations of the tribes,

and with their functions. One may say that the principal subject of the portion is distinctions and separations. Separation between

the locations of the tribes (which recurs as well in the division of the land), or between different functions (for example,

among the Levites: 'A singer who served as a gatekeeper [=performed the role of a gatekeeper] is liable to death'), and above all the sharp distinction between

the sacred and the profane, the violation of which in various ways incurs the death penalty ('The outsider who comes near shall be put to death' appears

three times in this portion). It is surprising to discover that immediately after the creation of the people as an organic unit

in the Exodus from Egypt, the Torah takes pains precisely to preserve these sectoral divisions and distinctions

and even greatly intensifies the punishment for one who breaches them.

This is a situation that perhaps today we would call 'multiculturalism,' that is, the preservation of the distinctive character

of the different strands. What is at issue is not merely a belated recognition of their existence, but rather a

deliberate, somewhat zealous guarding of the distinctions between them. There are other places in Jewish law where

such a sectoral conception finds expression: the highest priority in giving charity is to a person's relatives

or to the residents of his city. The division of the landholdings among the tribes and the preservation of the customs of the various communities are two

additional examples of this.

Set against all this is the feeling that we nevertheless need to create a minimal layer of uniformity in the identity

of the different strands that make up the public. Walking the tightrope between these two tendencies is

highly problematic. On the one hand, we want a minimal identity that will be shared by all the strands of society,

while on the other hand not erasing what is unique to each of them. This is the basic assumption that underlies

the centralized conception of education. The assumption is that there is a minimal educational and curricular foundation

that ought to be common to all segments of the population, and the Ministry of Education is charged with supervising it,

while on the other hand there is greater openness to the idea that in each community the school will look somewhat different,

in keeping with the character of the population that studies and teaches in it.

Seemingly, the above minimum should be based on the common denominator among all the streams. Everything

beyond that should be left to the decision of the various schools. The problem is that there is disagreement even

about the question of what that minimum is. Must one study mathematics? Or English? In the

ultra-Orthodox community, people will say no. Is everyone required to study the Bible? Or the Oral Torah? Or perhaps the history of

Zionism? Here too there are those who will say no. There is also a struggle over the question of the manner in which these subjects should be taught,

a struggle that is perhaps far sharper than the one over the very obligation to study them. This

situation creates an atmosphere in which every Minister of Education tries to bring with him a value system in which he believes,

and tries to change the curriculum and tilt it in the direction he prefers. Of course, in doing so he arouses

the anger of those who stand on the opposite side of the political divide.

Once there is no agreement about that minimum, the very existence of a centralized system entails

coercion of minorities, at least indirectly. From the tax money that we all pay, only,

or mainly, those areas of study that are accepted by the majority are funded. When the minority tries by various means

to finance the forms of education in which it believes, it is immediately portrayed as resorting to extortion. By contrast, when the majority

takes the minority's money in order to fund its own curricula, that is a 'legitimate act'

that accords with the 'rule of law.' The central institutions fight against educational networks labeled

'sectoral,' while themselves constituting one side in the struggle. Despite this, there is an illusion that the majority is not

a 'sector'; it is the state (see the entry on Louis XIV).

It seems that we must move from a politically controlled system of education to a system of educational pluralism

(a genuine one, not what is today called 'pluralism,' which is nothing but a code word used by a certain sector

to impose its positions on everyone else). A group that sees fit to establish an educational institution is the one that

should decide the form and fields of study that will prevail within it. The state will become a system whose role

is to assist the citizen, instead of being a party to a struggle with the power to impose its view. Even in such a situation it is possible

to support weaker populations. For example, every citizen would receive a (differential) education voucher for each

of his children, and would give it to the school in which he is interested.

Yerucham is a microcosm of many forms of thought and education, and therefore political 'education' wars also

seethe there. At 'Kol Yaakov' School, a minor war is being waged that includes ugly

and unnecessary phenomena that threaten to tear the school apart over nothing. 'Shuvu' School is engaged in an existential struggle, and I have not yet

mentioned the inequality between the state schools and the ultra-Orthodox ones (it is not even clear

in which direction). The centralized budgets serve as a very powerful tool that permits favoritism toward

different sectors, and force every educational institution to take shelter under the shadow of a political patron in order

to survive. The price is paid by all the residents!

If there were no centralization in budgeting and in determining curricula, we would be spared the toll of

most of these wars. Whoever wishes could establish a 'Shuvu' school, or an 'El HaMaayan' school, or a Torah-oriented national-

religious, secular, traditional, or other school. When governmental systems concentrate on providing services to citizens

rather than on trying artificially to impose positions or forms of education upon them, there will be created an atmosphere

of calm in which funding does not depend on opinions, and surprisingly unity too will increase. In such an atmosphere, anyone

who wishes to hear the other will be able to invite him, and will not have to suspect him of self-interest,

or feel threatened by him. The game will cease to be 'zero-sum.'

Have a peaceful Sabbath

This may be deposited for respectful disposal in any synagogue or yeshiva. Comments and responses will be received gladly.

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