Reflections following the Meron disaster (column 387)

With God’s help

Although the blood is still bubbling and the floodgates of tears have not closed, around this bubbling there is also a stupid and heated discourse that, in my opinion, is time to address it in a logical way (yes, there is also such a level of discussion, for those who have forgotten).

On emotion and stupidity

I will say in advance that my main goal on this site is to oppose the flamboyance and emotionalism that characterizes the discourse in our regions, and to try and tilt it, even slightly, in a slightly more logical, matter-of-fact and rational direction. This is true in relation to religious thinking, but also in relation to human thinking in general. This is of course a suicide mission in our world awash in stupidity and emotions, but I have long since realized that I have suicidal tendencies (as Ehud Barak said: If you were a Palestinian boy, I would be a suicide bomber. A simple and obvious statement, which does not mean that he did not seize upon it the expected emotional outburst).

What is a trigger for this column is, of course, the discussion surrounding Meron, and also what has developed here on the site around him. It faithfully reflects a situation in which intelligent people fall into a mental and emotional fixation that prevents the possibility of dialogue with them. When you say something sensible, you will be hit on the head directly from the angry stomach (and their tearful eyes). So allow me, as I do, to pour some more fuel on this fire of vanity, and you are certainly welcome to respond and pour it on me in talkbacks. I am sure you will do so, but I am writing these things for those immigrants who are not willing to be washed away by the stream of emotional stupidity that fills our streets. Good luck to us all.

I have written more than once about emotions being overrated. We (almost) all have emotions, and indeed it is appropriate to take them into account. However, emotions are now seen as something sacred that should not be harmed. Indeed, one should not harm people in any way, at least not as long as it is not necessary. But emotion is not a guide and cannot guide us as to what is right and what is proper. Furthermore, usually when a person writes and speaks from turbulent emotions, he will speak nonsense. The main reason for the shallowness of discourse in our circles is the exalted attitude towards emotions. Emotion is the father of all sin, and it is responsible for the horrific stupidity and rancor in our discourse.

The cry of the robbed Cossack

The fact that a person is sad, and even if they have been seriously hurt by me, does not mean that they are right. To the same extent, the fact that someone hurts someone does not mean that they are wrong. One can raise arguments of politeness and timing against the offender, but in many cases they are also mixed with factual arguments that arise from the depths of emotion.

This morning I received a question in an email from a person who feels harsh criticism of the Haredi society (which he himself grew up in, and perhaps still belongs to), and he is debating when his criticism is impolite and when it is a matter of contemporary gagging in the PC tool Shlita. I wrote to him that there is no real connection between politeness and PC. PC tries to change thinking by changing speech and terminology, while politeness only requires us to be careful to express things in a way that does not offend anyone. I added that there are no rules of politeness for thinking, but only for behavior and speech. In thinking, the only rules that determine what is right and wrong. In speech and behavior, the consequences for others must also be taken into account. In the criticisms of Yaron London's words, which have taken up significant volume both here on the site and in the media in general, claims of PC and criticisms of impoliteness are mixed, and many take them even to the level of substance, usually without even noticing. This is a sharp expression of what I am describing here.

By the way, the excessive need for manners arises precisely when the claims are true and you have no adequate response to them. Then you pull out the weapon of the Day of Judgment, and lament that it is offensive and impolite and inhuman, and in general bestial. If you also make sure to be offended and say that the speaker is dancing on blood, you will certainly come out on top. Many people and groups who behave inappropriately, and especially when they cannot justify their behavior, morally and/or logically, when they are criticized for it instead of responding, they are offended and accuse (this is of course completely forgotten when they themselves criticize others). In Yiddish, this phenomenon is called "The cry of the robbed Cossack". This is another reason why it is wrong to give in to accusations and keep your mouth shut even in difficult times. Various Cossacks exploit this for their own purposes.

Initial reflections on Lag BaOmer in Meron

It is impossible to escape a few opening words about the actual carnival of the Rashbi in Meron. This is a bizarre event that is unparalleled, perhaps with the exception of the carnival of graves and the worship of the righteous in Uman. And the inscription: Telo is a day whose origin and meaning are unclear (see Responsa Hatas Yod C. Releg-D), pour into it delusional content that our ancestors did not know and no one knows what they say (probably nothing), add a pinch of customs that were founded in the Holy Mountains (that is, in the office of the middle Rebbe of Weisswitz-Piltz, the one who succeeded after a legal battle with his brother in winning the Rebbe's share of the northern Moshav Shelslet and has a rose gold gretel), mix well, let it cook for about half an hour, and it will immediately become the most central and largest "religious" event in the world, and all the masses of our wise and intelligent people will cooperate with this stupidity. Tried and tested.

As far as I understand, this carnival and the mass becoming that follows it come from exactly the same place as the Bombamella festival or trance parties among secular people. It is a well-known, albeit unfortunate, fact that many people have a deep inner becoming for emotion and ecstasy that will take them out of their a priori everyday life and give them a sense of transcendence. The above parties are just examples from our time, but this phenomenon did not start today. This was probably also the source of the ecstasy of gaping idolaters, or those who danced around the golden calf and said to it, "These are your gods, Israel." People are looking for an outlet for becomings that nestle in them the spiritual, the ecstatic, and the emotional. They want to escape the annoying and cold mind that forces us to think and distinguish between the Sabbath and the six days of work, between the essential and the insipid (and the insipid), and between those who worship God and those who have not. And if there is no distinction, where is the difference?!

Instead of studying heavy theoretical subjects and exercising their minds, they prefer to meditate on Hasidic proverbs that require nothing and do not require effort, although they do not teach us anything. But they give us sublime experiences of incomprehensible depth. Therefore, seminars and lectures on these subjects are packed and crowded, while theoretical and systematic study on various subjects is set aside like a stone that cannot be turned. The priestess is laid on a corner and the innkeeper sacrifices on the altar.

People prefer to break out challah with devotion and believe that it will bring a cure for someone's illness, rather than understanding that challah is a mitzvah like any other mitzvah that must be kept because it was commanded, and that its observance for such purposes borders on a Torah prohibition. All in all, it is just a prosaic recognition of the grim reality. It is much more satisfying and uplifting to break out challah with murmurs (which are rooted in those same holy mountains), and then not acknowledge that it was of no use in any way. No drop of weeping and sublime murmuring returns empty, as we know.

Back to Lag BaOmer. It starts with a few Rebbes who are looking for a place to establish themselves in. They probably don't have anything more interesting and useful to say and do, and how will it be known that they are Rebbes? How will we all know that they are descendants of Tarshish and Aralem, who themselves were descendants of other Tarshish and Aralem (was there ever a real Tarshish and Aralem in such a chain? Who knows?!). I once heard that the Rebbe of Sanz took as a son-in-law for his daughter a simple guy who was examined by him on two thousand pages of Gemara. When they asked him how an important Rebbes like him could allow himself to marry such a simple guy, he replied that he preferred someone who begins the lineage over someone who ends it. These Rebbes use the services of gabbaim, businessmen, and publicists, all of whom fight among themselves and engage in legal and other intrigues, in order to gain possession of the sacred positions of lighting in Meron. It's about holding onto territories in space and time, who will light a bonfire and who won't, and who will make a greater name for the well-known Rebbe of Harel and Tarshish. My Rebbe is a bigger bully, after all, he lit the bonfire of Lag BaOmer's vanities with sublime and unclear mumbling in area X at time Y, completely unlike your Rebbe, your scoundrel, who lit only in area Y and at time X and who had only 10,000 foolish Hasidim with him and not 200,000 like ours. And besides, his face wasn't really filled with holy ardor and elevated joy like my Rebbe's. This is how the myths of H. Y. Rotel are born and become mass tenets of faith, I suppose that's exactly how idolatry was born.

This PR, which is all about economic interests and power and honor, is surprisingly fruitful, as it dresses up those pursuits of "spirituality" and experiences in a way that does not require intellectual effort, God willing (just a little pushing and suffering, and muttering verses of Psalms that will bring salvation through the merit of the righteous). The fact that there are serious concerns about several severe halachic prohibitions will not stop our idolaters, nor will it prevent them from the world's largest trance party. When I see the mass and uniform ecstatic swaying of the crowd at these worthless and tasteless events, I am truly amazed at the immense power of mass suggestion, and I am reminded of the experiences of idolatry that were supposedly spared from us in these generations. I admit and am ashamed that even my little ego sometimes feels a sense of experience when I am present at various ceremonies (religious or not). We are all human. But I try to overcome this, and I certainly do not turn it into something valuable, that is, into an ideology. At most, it is a surrender to our lowly needs, and even that is permissible from time to time. An experience is nothing more than a form of entertainment (and when it is mass, it is usually poor and herd-like entertainment in my opinion), nothing more.

"All mockery is a mockery of idolatry."

I think I have already quoted here the words of R. Y. Hutner, in his book Fear of Isaac On Purim. He explains the statement of the Sages (Sup"g Damgila, 25b):

Rav Nachman said, "All the mockery of Assira, son of Melit, is the worship of idols, as it is written, "Kere bir keres Nebo" and "Keresu bir keres" together, they could not escape the burden, etc. Rabbi Yannai said, "From here, the carts of Beit On will be driven to the neighborhood of Shimron, because his people will mourn for him, and his followers will proclaim his honor, because he was exiled from him. Do not belittle his honor, but rather be like his burden." Rav Huna, son of Manoah, said, "From his name, the Lord of the sons of Israel

Why is clowning, which was probably not very popular with Chazal (and certainly not with me), permitted in relation to idolatry? Rabbi Hutner explains this immediately after clarifying what is wrong with clowning in itself. He claims that it punctures a hole in the balloon of anything important and takes the air out of it (2:11).A shield anointed with oil). And what is wrong with idolatry? There we encounter giving great importance to things that are of no importance in themselves (wood and stone). Therefore, explains R. Y. Hutner, clowning is the right and proper tool for dealing with idolatry. It pokes a hole in the empty balloon of importance and returns it to its natural size. It is necessary to understand that indeed the worshippers of idolatry are harmed by this clowning, and it is really impolite to act this way. True, but it is no less important to poke a hole in the balloon of idolatry than to not harm its worshippers. If they worship idolatry, they must bear the consequences of the war against it.

You will probably be surprised to hear that my little ego indulges in the realm of clowning quite a bit, I'm glad I'm good. But I think I always do it (at least that's my principled policy) where I see a thread of idolatry, that is, where disproportionate importance is given to unimportant things. In the case of simple mistakes (in my opinion), or in the case of an argument about some issue or another that really has two sides, even if I support one of them, I don't usually joke, but rather conduct an argument in a more serious tone. But where disproportionate importance is given to an unimportant thing, be it a person, a text, a concept, or an idea, that's where R. Y. Hutner's words ring true for me. Note that it is precisely in such places that people are hurt by criticism, because it is an attack on something that seems very important to them. But it is precisely there that our Sages teach us not to shy away from this attack. In a certain sense, this is the cry of the robbed Cossack that I spoke of above.

I will add that in the second type of debate, I also make arguments, but I certainly allow myself to present them cynically. This is the important and subtle difference between irony and cynicism and irrelevance. Irrelevance is unacceptable to me under any circumstances. Relevance is a situation where you joke without making arguments, but not when you present arguments in a cynical way. When I present a position and people attack it as heresy or joke about it, it is an irrelevant comment. But when they make arguments against it, even if they present them cynically, they will be blessed. I really like this kind of phrasing, it adds a little salt and pepper to our lives (you see, I also look for experiences). When I am offended by someone's words, I know that they caught me without an answer, and then I make sure to try and overcome that. It is an irrelevant response, and certainly is not a substitute for arguments. If I have no counterarguments, then I must honestly admit that I was wrong and not use an insult to get out of the argument with dignity (the stolen Cossack effect). In short, cynicism and practicality are not necessarily opposites.

Yaron London

I suppose there is no need to present to you Yaron London's words about the Meron disaster, which are featured here under every fresh tree. Nevertheless, I will present them here in full so that your eyes can see them clearly. I suggest you read them carefully and critically, without falling prey to emotional traps and distorted portrayals of them in the media:

Things that are atrocious. He wrote the truth with remarkable honesty. There is no word of anti-Semitism here, nor anything else obscene. Here is a description of the feelings of a liberal Israeli who feels alienated from the Haredim and for him they are like Rwandans or members of another people in a faraway place, and therefore their tragedy does not touch him on an emotional level. Of course he is sorry for their grief, as he is for the grief of any human being who suffers, but he does not feel for them as family members whose grief touches him on a personal level. What is not obvious here? What is here worthy of criticism? This is an authentic and honest description of feelings that many Israelis feel but do not dare to say because of consideration for the Haredim and because of the PC.

These things come after years and generations of the Haredim adhering to an ideology of alienation and separation from everything around them, a lack of contribution and narrow, self-serving, sectoral behavior, a massive exploitation without a shred of gratitude from everyone around them (the health, security, legal, police, education, psychological counseling and educational treatment systems, academic systems, and so on and so forth), blaming others and their opinions for every disaster and an unwillingness to truly reflect, a primitive and narrow-minded mentality, a crazy and monopolistic imposition of their norms on the entire public that does not believe in them, does not recognize them, and does not want them, some of which are not even anchored in Halacha, but who cares?! (Shabbat, kashrut, marriage, the way of behaving at the Western Wall, the content of state ceremonies, and so on), and a grossly irresponsible behavior that harms us all, both economically and in terms of security, and in the last year, also in terms of health. And after all this, Yaron London, as an atheist and a liberal, honestly admits that he feels alienated from them, although he even chides himself a little for it (after all, this is a leftist, isn't it?). After all, that's exactly what they wanted to achieve, isn't it? It's their own policy. So what's the fuss about? He doesn't belittle anyone's grief, and if he were to meet a person in grief, he would certainly share their grief. Here he describes his feelings in the face of the collective grief of a certain public, and not an encounter with a specific person in grief.

This is truly the phenomenon of the Cossack who was robbed. Yaron London puts a mirror in front of them, and suddenly they have no answers or justifications. You do all this to us, you whistle at the rules, you revel in the graves and dance with the stars, we protect you, we organize for you and we finance you, we are the ones who save you from your own hands (sometimes, not always successfully), and in return you despise us and impose on us. And suddenly you discover that he succeeded for you (not really, because the absolute majority of the public shows amazing sympathy in the grief). So now you are complaining. You also want consideration and feelings of participation, because the sons of one father rest in peace. As mentioned, when there are no substantive answers, the Cossack takes up the field of insults.

Beyond that, Yaron London expressed an emotion and not a moral or ethical position. Every person's tragedy is sad and should be mourned, and I am sure that he too, when he sees such a tragedy up close, will be sad. He only wondered why the tragedy of the Haredim in Meron is different from his perspective from the tragedy of the Rwandans. The Rwandans did not suffer less (in fact, much more). The claim is that the Haredim are closer to him. But this is an emotional and not a moral claim. On the emotional level, London's feelings are as they are. These are facts and he is only telling us about them. There is no expression of a moral or ethical position here, and therefore I see no room for criticism of it.

Back to the difference between politeness and substance

In closing, I cannot avoid referring to the words of a teacher named Liat Winder Noked, who wrote: Wonderful post And touching on Facebook, really Neta Ne'eman, the work of an artist, Haman's jar of manna. Very few texts I have read are written at this level. I highly recommend reading.

If you've read it, you've probably noticed that among the criticisms, there's a lot of similarity between her words and London's, and with the same fundamental sharpness, but it's written very gently and with empathy (albeit with considerable arrogance), and therefore doesn't evoke similar feelings in the reader. It would be really fascinating to make comparisons between her words and London's (they're almost identical) and to compare readers' responses to the two posts. The difference between her words and London's is mainly in the intonation and the way they phrase it, which illustrates how much people read from their stomachs rather than their heads, and how much they confuse politeness with substance and form with content.

In my understanding, she does not describe any closeness to the Haredim and certainly not their being one people with her. On the contrary, I sense a not entirely hidden mockery of these statements (as Haredi slogans) and a haughty contempt for their primitive perceptions. But there is an extraordinary empathy in her words for them and her writing is wonderfully subtle (beyond the very step of coming to comfort the mourners in Bnei Brak). This tense combination that she makes is ingenious, truly a work of art in my opinion. I immediately wonder what would have happened following a similar step she would have taken towards a disaster that would have befallen the Palestinians who live here (I can assume that for her it is quite similar. There too, they are not one people, but there is room for empathy and recognition/understanding of the other). I am quite certain that such a step would not have elicited a similar attitude from most readers here, not to mention that they themselves would not have taken it.

You know what, why talk theoretically?! Ask yourself what the Haredim do in the face of disasters that happen at a music festival or a football game? Will you find empathy there as they expect from others here? Wouldn't anyone there attribute this to the crimes of secularism? (Everyone there is engaged in nonsense and waste of time, and that's what happens. The hand of God has struck these unfortunate people! After all, the Chazon Ish and the Rabbi of Brisk have already said that the wars are because of the secularists and their fault.) Was it the same grief for them as it was for the Meron disaster? I have no doubt that at least for many of them – no. Go out and see their attitude to the Day of Remembrance for the fallen IDF. It's not just about not participating in state ceremonies, which is completely forgivable. I'm talking about their principled attitude, about what is reflected in the streets and in conversations in the seminaries. About the fiery speeches of "What is for us and them?" I myself was there and heard it. It's not all of them, of course, but this is the basic ethos. By the way, Yaron London is not all secular either. On the contrary, the vast majority of secular people express a surprising participation in grief, which seems to me (like London) a bit hypocritical (politeness is obligatory). And in relation to the fallen IDF, we are talking about people who gave their lives in their own defense, not just unfortunate people who suffered a disaster. And what is the reason for the lack of empathy? Alienation and distance, of course. Most ultra-Orthodox families don't know soldiers, much less fallen soldiers. It doesn't happen in their own backyard, so there's no great empathy (I'm not talking about meeting grieving people in person, of course. I mean the public treatment). So what do they have to complain about London's feelings? The Cossack who was robbed, I said?!

And what about me?

Unlike the Greek chorus here on the site that accuses me of identifying with London, nowhere did I write or say that I am not sad about what happened, nor did I express agreement with his words (if only because he is not claiming anything, but only expressing emotion). I said and wrote that I completely understand London's feeling for his method and in light of his position and views. I wrote that it is completely understandable, natural and understandable to me. I also reject with contempt the vehement and emotional criticism of him. But I, unlike him, do feel close to the Haredim (despite the harsh criticism of them that I completely share), if only because of the family connection, the religious faith (which is shared to some extent. After all, they are the sect closest to me) and my personal biography. Some of my best friends are… . But I won't deny that when I heard about the disaster, I also experienced some feelings similar to those he describes: feelings like "I told you so," "harming idolaters in the Holy Land," "a herd of buffalo," and the like, and even a little joy for the sake of it (this is a natural emotion, even if unwanted).

This has nothing to do with, nor is it a contradiction to, the sadness felt in the face of loss of life and in the face of families in such great grief and sorrow. On a personal level, it is certainly no less than the personal sadness I would feel if I knew the victims of Rwanda (who, unlike the Haredim, did nothing to me and are not to blame for their situation, but on the other hand, they are also less close to me). I am sure that this is also the case with Yaron London. But on a collective level, you are not standing in front of a deceased person or a specific grieving family, but in front of a public that brought disaster upon itself with its own negligent hands, and which constitutes a bitter and harassing adversary who is clearly immoral, as I described above. Just as Shiron writes, this is the feeling of an adult in the face of something happening to a stupid child who did not listen to him and who brought disaster upon him, especially when that same child bullies him, despises him, and exploits him his entire life without any gratitude. Is he expected to feel a sense of empathy toward him? But the emotional howlers here, like the media brawlers bathed in emotional PC, whose eyes are bathed in tears and whose hearts are full of content, all of them are unable to listen to the arguments, let alone understand them. They are unable to see their own flaws and dismiss the other with their silence. No wonder I feel like I'm talking to a wall. So instead of talking, I wrote, and it's nice to hear.

A final theological note

For dessert, I will end with a small point that occurred to me in the wake of the disaster, which connects the two parts of this column. It is accepted in Jewish thought that we should take stock of ourselves and learn from everything that happens to us. Personally, as most of you know, I do not think so. Taking stock of ourselves is certainly good, it is always good. But understanding the reasons for what happens and drawing conclusions is absolutely not. In my opinion, what happens is (at least usually) the nature of the world and not the work of God. But according to the opinion of someone who thinks that events that do happen come to teach us, I ask him what he thinks we should learn from this event? (Apart from strengthening modesty and the length of women's sleeves, in studying Torah and in the prohibition of slander, of course.) If I thought that events come to teach us, it would be very difficult for me to escape the conclusion that God wanted to teach us that perhaps our intentions are desirable (or perhaps not), but our actions are certainly undesirable. That the worship of the graves in Meron is a trance revelry that is not pleasing to Him.

As we recall, Rabbi Yitzhak Peretz (Rabbi of Ra'anana and former Shas minister) explained to us in Totod thatThe "Habonim" disasterThe death of dozens of schoolchildren from Petah Tikva in a collision with a train, happened because of the desecration of Shabbat in Petah Tikva (Heichal Cinema). And I just wonder if there will be one honest person out of a thousand among the many (almost all) who disagree with me, perhaps Rabbi Peretz himself?!..., who will be willing to reconsider his attitude towards the Rashbi Carnival in the wake of what happened? Is it not the hand of God that unleashed a fierce and painful outburst on the idolaters in Meron? Apparently, this is the very state of Mount Carmel today, according to them. If this obvious lesson cannot be learned from the disaster that happened here, then events really do not teach us anything.

As for myself, I repeat and claim that from every event that happens, everyone learns what they thought before (as always happens in the study of legend, the Bible and morality), in other words, they learn nothing from it. From this I also conclude that we have nothing to learn from events (on the theological level), and also that God, the Almighty, is probably not trying to teach us anything (otherwise He would have failed miserably in a pedagogical way, which is not really appropriate for an omnipotent being like Him. See the second book in my trilogy on this). But here I throw down the gauntlet to those who have the opposite approach. If no one among you can find such a person, this in itself will be an admission of legality and evidence of my principled approach to learning from events. As I said, I think this way about the Meron celebration regardless of the disaster, and as I said, I also do not think that disasters come to teach us anything. But here I claim that those who disagree with me on these two points are presenting a contradictory argument.

That's it. I'm done. You can start insulting and cursing me...