A Look at the 5784 Yom Kippur “War” (Column 594)

With God’s help

Disclaimer: This post was translated from Hebrew using AI (ChatGPT 5 Thinking), so there may be inaccuracies or nuances lost. If something seems unclear, please refer to the Hebrew original or contact us for clarification.

For Elad, who asked for this column

I already thought some time ago about writing something on the Yom Kippur “wars” in Tel Aviv and in general. But tempers were flaring, and perhaps after a few days things would be received a bit more calmly and with more balance. The descriptions I’ll bring here will be schematic and won’t capture the storm in all its glory. Interested readers are invited to search the media. Here I only wish to point out a few important points in the principled debate taking place these days, of which the storms in Tel Aviv are just one expression. I must say there’s nothing significantly novel in what I write; it’s been written before. But perhaps this column will help focus the issue a bit. This column is journalistic in nature. In the next column I’ll dive a little into the more theoretical layer of the discussion.

Background: Rosh Yehudi

The organization Rosh Yehudi has been active in Tel Aviv for quite a few years now. Their concern is bringing people closer to Judaism (not Haredi, and in their words more inclusive). I admittedly don’t much like the laundry-list euphemisms used by such missionary organizations, like the riddle that opens their website:

Rosh Yehudi is a center for self-awareness in the heart of Tel Aviv, providing content, inspiration, and experience for a young audience interested in deepening, learning, and daring to ask essential and fascinating questions that concern us all.

You might try to imagine that they’re dealing with questions of child abuse, the philosophy of morality and existentialism, the nature of mathematics (the question of Platonism), Jewish-Arab relations, or perhaps meditation workshops for self-awareness (I gather that actually does happen there in one form or another. Well, you wanted Judaism in Tel Aviv, didn’t you?) and the like. But if you keep reading you’ll immediately discern the outline of the “solution”:

Rosh Yehudi arose to meet the growing thirst for Jewish identity. All Rosh Yehudi rabbis are committed to the teachings of our master Rabbi Kook, of blessed memory, who educated toward observance of Torah out of fear of Heaven, while listening to the life taking shape here in the Land.

So beyond the genre’s standard word-laundering, we’re speaking about an organization with a laudable aim. They answer a thirst, bring people closer to Judaism, and in the spirit of Rav Kook. Those who know the background know this is an appropriate Zionist response to Haredi outreach organizations (which—aside from the point about Rav Kook—use almost the same words to describe their actions and goals, and I think in practice are no less inclusive and open).

Except that the Judaism they market there isn’t always so pleasant to secular ears. For example, about two weeks ago they brought in Rabbi Yigal Levinstein, known for his pleasant and inclusive views (which in recent years have aroused plenty of criticism in the media and even within the religious public. I’ll spare you my personal opinion), to address the thirsty Tel Aviv public. Unsurprisingly, his arrival sparked near-violent disturbances. In my view, the talk of a lynch was a bit exaggerated and tendentious, but that’s how a mobilized press operates. In any case, despite the condemnation of the person in question and his views, these attacks and protests drew criticism from various quarters. Many spoke of the growing intolerance and the questionable liberalism lately revealed in the first and largest Hebrew liberal city.

Let us turn now to the war itself.

A brief description of events

For several years now, Rosh Yehudi has organized prayers in the public domain intended for those who don’t feel comfortable praying in a synagogue but want a religious experience of praying in the street while holding the leash of the dog lying beside them like a child ingratiating himself before his Creator (remember: this is Tel-Avivian Judaism). This year a prayer was planned for Dizengoff Square (as part of extracting the sparks from the husks), and lo, a few days before Yom Kippur, the Tel Aviv municipality notified Rosh Yehudi there would be no permit to place partitions between women and men in the public domain. After petitions to the courts were denied, including to the Supreme Court (which rejected it on grounds mainly technical), it was agreed they would conduct the prayer without partitions.

But on Yom Kippur eve a very large stage was erected in the square, and at its sides several Israeli flags were placed as a de facto partition. This sparked an uproar among protesters who came to ensure the law was upheld (which, as we all know, is always and only their guiding light), and the commotion continued into Yom Kippur, up to Ne’ilah and beyond. In the end I understand the prayer was moved to a nearby synagogue and its surroundings. This war raised a great clamor in heaven—but also on earth. There were very harsh scenes (see, for example, a description here) that reminded many of pogroms and dark religious persecutions, and I think that’s not entirely far-fetched. People cried there, and it was clear they felt like those Jews abroad who were attacked for their Judaism. Even a few of the toughest and most cynical among our finest reported tears and deep despair following the events. No wonder that, in the wake of the war, many protested the violence, the persecution of Judaism, and the silencing of voices—and once again the so-called “liberalism,” naturally, with many caveats.

Political and social background

For posterity, or for those living among us today but residing on the moon over the past year, it’s important simply to note that all this is taking place against a backdrop of nearly a year of activity by the coalition of horrors and the current government, composed of extreme Haredi elements (some wearing knitted kippot) that have aroused sharp criticism and protest in the streets, which has not abated for almost a year. The protest revolves mainly around the judicial reform they’re trying to advance, but no less around a policy that includes an impressive array of highly problematic steps in the public sphere. Needless to say, not all their steps are problematic, and the protest against them is sweeping and hysterical (every move by the government is presented there as destruction). The protesters and the protest long ago detached themselves from reality (and in so doing lost me—and many like me—entirely).

In any case, the background to the Yom Kippur events I described is the war between the religious-Haredi and anti-liberal coalition (led by the “liberal” movement called Likud) and large parts of the public who deeply dislike it and even see it as an existential and immediate danger to democracy (not really true) and to the state (quite true). The crisis has lasted a year and is very severe, and many (myself included) see in it (in the crisis, not only in the government’s steps) an existential danger to society and even a tangible threat to the state’s survival.

The protests I described against the prayer and the worshippers in Tel Aviv were carried out in the name of gender separation and partitions in the public domain, but we all know that wasn’t the issue. The war there was part of the ongoing protest against the religious and their conduct. The protesters weren’t very interested in partitions, nor in the law and its observance. They wanted to torpedo the prayer itself, or at least push it back into synagogues. In particular they targeted Rosh Yehudi, perceived as part of the hardal (national-Haredi) world and almost as an arm of our benighted coalition. They didn’t want to see it and its activities in a secular city like Tel Aviv, and in this way they also protested the coalition it represents to them. The sanctions the municipality is imposing on the organization for Sukkot have already been published and are under litigation, and more sagas await us. The day’s battle and its evening are not yet over.

Whataboutism: a look at freedom of expression and action

I’ll begin with the pluralism demanded of the municipality and the protesting public. Similar demands arose regarding Ben-Gvir’s marches in Umm al-Fahm and similar events. But similar pluralism should have been extended by the religious-right toward Pride parades around the country. And likewise toward a mixed Reform prayer in the streets of Bnei Brak, in Kiryat Arba, or a Muslim prayer for the welfare of Hamas prisoners in Yitzhar. And what about Christian missionizing across the Holy Land? It’s hard to avoid the impression that the demand for tolerance—and the sense of being offended—on both sides are position-driven. Neither truly applies them to itself. Tolerance and offense are tools in the public struggle and, in my eyes, not particularly authentic. I’m sure the tears and hurt for some were authentic, but that’s only because of a lack of self-awareness and willful disconnect from context. In essence there’s no room here for offense. There was no lynch and no pogrom, and comparisons to Kishinev are demagoguery. Likewise, the protesters aren’t truly concerned with the rule of law (cf. road-blocking), nor did they protest gender separation. They rioted against prayer and religious Jews in the streets of secular Tel Aviv. That’s all. In short, both sides in this story are astonishingly hypocritical—even if, sadly, some are unaware of it.

So you can understand why I’m not greatly impressed by either side’s claims. One can, of course, make various distinctions. For instance, in Yitzhar there is no demand for this type of prayer, unlike Tel Aviv (the fact is many residents came to pray there). Beyond that, Tel Aviv is not a private place (“it’s not their father’s city,” as Zeira of Rosh Yehudi quite rightly said) but a city. Its status differs from that of a settlement, and its streets should be open to every activity and every public. Its residents are also more diverse than those of various towns, contrary to the false representation of a “secular city” (more than once I’ve seen secular people tend to view their living space as secular even when it’s not). But what about Bnei Brak, or Pride parades? Those too are cities. And what about missionizing, which is prohibited by law across the country (apparently there’s demand for it)? Yes, I know, this is a Jewish state—but also a democratic one. In a democratic state there is freedom of expression, speech, and action so long as no one else is harmed. And the fact that someone declares themselves offended to gain privileges is, to me, like Muslims rioting when someone draws a caricature of Muhammad, or Arabs when someone walks past them with an Israeli flag, or Jews when someone walks past them with a Palestinian flag. It’s all really the same. In short, Tel Aviv may not be a secular city, but even if it were, that shouldn’t prevent religious activities in its streets. And likewise in Bnei Brak and Jerusalem.

Both sides in this game are equally hypocritical and demagogic, since the demands for tolerance from all directions are equally justified—and both sides reject them when inconvenient. Therefore neither side is right here. This may surprise you, but there’s something common to both sides in these loud wars: both agree that expression and activities they dislike should not be allowed—at least in the public domain, and preferably beyond. But, ironically, precisely in the principle on which they agree, they are wrong. A democratic state is supposed to allow any activity of any kind in every public space, and not heed the cries of faux-victims or the “offended.” That’s true for Pride parades in Jerusalem, Kahana marches in Umm al-Fahm, separate prayers or speeches by Yigal Levinstein in Tel Aviv, Holocaust denial (see in column 6), missionizing in the Holy Land, and the like. No wonder each side’s intolerance fuels and arms the other (which, of course, suffers from the same intolerance).

That is the nature of free speech and democracy. These social-governmental practices are meant for adults who don’t want some “sages of the generation” (neither Ehud Barak nor Aharon Barak, neither Shikma Bressler, nor Eichler, nor Levinstein) deciding for them what is right and wrong and determining what will be heard in the public domain and what won’t. Everything should be heard everywhere, and people will decide whether they want to listen or not, and whether they accept it or not. That’s the nature of a free and democratic state. Oh, and also a Jewish one. Whoever wishes can, of course, protest to their heart’s content—without violence—against events they deem objectionable, or organize alternative marches, lectures, or prayers according to their taste. The marketplace of ideas and the public sphere should be open to all, and there should be no doubt about any person’s or group’s right to voice an opinion or conduct themselves as they wish. So long as I don’t harm anyone, but only my views “harm” someone—let them take a pill and calm down. The starting point is that everyone has the right to present any opinion and do whatever they wish, anywhere. And again, my words here are directed against both sides of this debate. Neither strives for tolerance; both operate against it and only take its name in vain when convenient.

Of course, now I’ll be asked about a neo-Nazi march through the streets of Bnei Brak (I don’t rule it out. Borderline), or walking fully nude, or even a blatant Pride parade in Meah Shearim (in my view unlikely). True, there is common sense, and it’s hard to permit everything; but the line of common sense lies far beyond the limits each side in the current struggle draws for its own purposes. One can always feign naiveté and depict a separate prayer as equivalent to walking naked—but that’s disingenuous nonsense. Not everything has to be permitted (since sometimes there is harm even if not physical), but almost everything should be. In our parts there is a growing tactical use of “offense” and “harm” to score gains, but that’s a Muslim tactic, and I’d be pleased to see it vanish from our midst. Incidentally, that’s the government’s (and police’s) job: not to capitulate to “feelings of offense” and to deal firmly with those who use them—more or less cynically. The authorities’ weakness in the face of various publics’ “offense” brings upon us today’s abominations. We mustn’t take it into account. Not Muslims on the Temple Mount, not Arabs in Umm al-Fahm, not Jews at the Pride Parade, and not Tel-Avivians regarding prayers—separate or not—at Dizengoff Square.

It’s important to note I’m not using whataboutism in its usual sense here, namely attacking one side by claiming it suffers from the same flaw it imputes to its counterpart. I used whataboutism here only to show that both sides are in exactly the same boat—and to criticize them both. In short, the war over freedom of expression and liberalism ought to be waged by the sane majority against both sides, because in this war they stand together—on the wrong, illiberal side. This is a dark religious war, and that’s how we should see it.

Pogrom feelings

By the way, I can understand the sense of injury and the “pogrom-ish” descriptions of these events. From the photos one could sense the hatred on people’s faces and the disgust they expressed toward religion and religious people in general. The images of (religious) people crying at the event and the shock it caused others seem authentic to me. There was a kind of pogrom here, if only because these events were not a war over ideas on their merits but also—and perhaps mainly—against people and groups.

It reminds me of an unforgettable experience (so why do I need to recall it?) from very many years ago. During Chol Hamoed Sukkot a conference was held at Tel Aviv University titled “Spinoza, the first secular Jew.” I believe I’ve mentioned it here before. It was rather amusing, since between the lines of the supposedly academic lectures it was clear the secular were simply seeking a rabbi and spiritual leader (some in the audience said as much). Among others, Prof. Michael Har-Segor, who headed the League against Religious Coercion, spoke there. He strutted about like a peacock, accompanied by two odd fellows—bodyguards or water-pourers on his hands—and the three of them ranted in an ugly fashion against anything smelling of religion (especially Jewish; he actually showed quite impressive tolerance toward Christianity), like the last of the pogromists. I remember his remarks on stage and then a (horrific) argument I had with him and his two companions in the conference corridors, which stirred very difficult feelings in me. Never in my life had I encountered so directly and so crudely such fierce antisemitic hatred smeared across people’s faces as they “talked” to me—just as my parents described from abroad. It was indeed a painful experience, one that slightly clouds my liberalism and desire to allow freedom of expression for all. I suppose that’s part of what stirred the harsh feelings in the recent Yom Kippur war. And still, in my opinion, even hatred must be free to be expressed, and we must address it in other ways (not by silencing).

Incidentally, the hatred on both sides has been here for a long time already, and the harping on the fact that this was a prayer and on a holy day and other demagogic propaganda lines strikes me as tendentious and unserious. It’s a bit like the ludicrous shock at Baruch Goldstein’s deeds over the fact that he massacred innocent worshippers in the Cave of the Patriarchs—as if had he killed them in their homes it would have been acceptable. I see no difference between hatred or murder expressed at prayer and hatred or murder otherwise. Such statements are nothing but cynical exploitation of respect for religious feelings for propaganda purposes. In any case, the Yom Kippur events were only one expression—albeit a somewhat extreme one—of the hatred that has been blazing here for some time, and that’s how they should be seen.

A psychological note

Above I spoke about the secular search for a rabbi. I’ll add that, in my view, this also underlies not a few of the current protests. The secular are tired of being portrayed (and of feeling, in practice—and rightly) like an empty cart. The religious have binding values on which one cannot compromise, and the secular feel they must set up an alternative full cart opposite them. But that feeling itself can be interpreted in two ways: one can understand it as a tactic—since it’s a bit hard to fight for a sacred vacuum. But one can also understand it as essence: a claim that there really are secular values (a full cart). I find tactics hard to argue with, since they don’t claim to be honest. But on the substantive level I’ll repeat and say: indeed, the secular cart is empty. Secular people can be wonderful and full of all that is good, brimming with wisdom and fine character traits—but that’s as people. There’s no such thing as secular values, because secularity is a negative state (absence of faith or of religious commitment). A secular person can be full of values, but there are no “secular values,” and therefore, to their regret, it’s impossible and unreasonable to create such a religion. And even liberalism, which is a certain kind of belief (not secular), is not a religion, and I’d expect it to allow grownups who don’t agree with it to conduct themselves as they understand in the public domain.

This sense of vacuum brings people a powerful need to fill their empty cart. So they create a religion for themselves (since, as noted, there’s no such thing as a full secular cart): namely beliefs and values that must be defended with religious zeal, never compromising, fearing every slippery-slope—however slight—just like the last of the religious whom they vilify (and exclude). Now they too have something for which to fight with self-sacrifice. Thus democratic liberalism turns into an intolerant and non-inclusive religion, with fundamental dogmas, with heretics and apostates, with spiritual leaders, with consigning heretics to the pit and silencing mouths—just like every other self-respecting religion. Thus voluntary separation of the two genders in the public domain becomes heresy in a fundamental principle whose “punishment” is roughly death—or at least violent condemnation—something like Nazism for fans of the genre. I’ve just heard of a halakhic dispute among the “greats of the generation” of the anti-government protest about whether it’s permissible to make Nazi comparisons. Now they too have the party of the “comparers” and those who are not.

This may be dime-store psychology, but I have a very clear sense that this is one of the foundations for the secular hysteria over religionization (hadatah), exclusion (hadarah), othering (hazarah), “harvahah,” “havzarah,” “harfiyah,” “hakladah,” and the rest of the h–words (fill in the blank) for which one must “die rather than transgress,” and regarding which clear fences must be erected against every remote fear of a slippery slope. Now we’re all religious; the carts on both sides are full; and now the struggle can proceed on equal terms. At last there is content to our lives. One cannot deny that this struggle provides a sense of satisfaction and fullness to people for whom bourgeois secular life did not offer sufficient spiritual answer. The term “democracy,” used by the protest with no connection to its original meaning, has become a religious banner. The Declaration of Independence has become holy writ, and if there’s a lawyer like Ilan Bombach who dares to criticize it (see here and the stormy reactions in the media), they’re offended like the last of the Muslims whose cheese was moved.

Well then, it’s hard to live a secular life—that is, a life devoid of religious feelings. None of us is perfect, and only a few truly succeed in doing so. Incidentally, I think that I, humble as I am, actually manage it fairly well (I worked on it quite a bit. It didn’t come easily). For me there really isn’t anything that justifies draconian steps and such grievous offense from either side, and I recommend to everyone—that is, to the religious on both sides—to try to reach this blessed “secular” and liberal state. You can believe with perfect faith in something and at the same time be rational, logical, even human and moral. Despite what your gut tells you, and despite the exhortations of politruks on both sides (“If you don’t care, you don’t really believe”—in halakha or in liberalism), there is no contradiction between the two. You don’t have to fall into hysteria to prove serious belief and commitment to something.

If we’re dealing with psychological motives, we can’t avoid returning to what’s been happening in the political sphere over the last year. The clashing sides on this past Yom Kippur are closely identified with the two political camps, which makes it much easier to understand the anger and frustration of the secular side. They feel that others are entering their domain and advancing ideas that persecute them. It’s not just antisemitism, even if at times it looks like it (incidentally, even antisemitism in the past perhaps wasn’t always baseless, as I’ve noted before. Ehud Matot—glad to supply you a quote for your obsessive postings).

It’s important for me to say that these psychological-sociological motives are something I can understand. It’s hard to live in a vacuum, especially when the other side exploits it and demands you compromise all the time because your cart is empty, trying again and again to impose its way on you. But still, understanding is not justification. I do not accept a process that creates religious values ex nihilo just because someone has a psychological need (incidentally, many accuse the religious of exactly that). I too oppose the exclusion of women, but I do not see separate prayer in Dizengoff Square as exclusion, and I would certainly not impose it on women and men who wish it. Let it be for their health. And of course there’s nothing here that would justify “pogroms” (that is, protests that evoke a sense of pogrom). Incidentally, I would also expect the court not to allow this exclusion of the religious. Although the Supreme Court’s decision was mainly technical, I have no doubt there was an agenda in the background as well.

Exclusion and separation in a public space

We’ve arrived at the subject of exclusion. I’ve discussed liberal paternalism here more than once. Those Liberals-In-Their-Own-Eyes graciously impose on grownups who think differently the “correct” way to think and behave. Thus we arrive at bizarre phenomena like banning the rental of a public venue—or even granting approval—for a gender-separate performance by a Haredi singer in a public place. This continues with bans on separate prayer in the public domain as practiced by the people of Israel for many generations. Thus the Hebrew University doesn’t allow female students who wish it to dance separately at a Purim party—all in the name of liberalism. Thus we arrived at the situation where the most sensible decision in the world by the current government (yes, occasionally there are such), which tries to set separate bathing hours at certain nature reserves (after a pilot, with due caution and in very small measure) for people who cannot use these public places in a way that fits their values and are thus excluded from them, becomes an offensive step that arouses mass protests by faux-victims. Apparently that too leads to the end of democracy—like every heretical pip squeak from the wrong religion.

In short, don’t tell me that setting up partitions in Dizengoff Square with everyone’s consent—while allowing anyone who wishes to move about around it freely—truly constitutes a “die rather than transgress” prohibition in the liberal religion. Don’t tell me it strikes at your very soul to that extent. That’s bull I’m not buying, if only because I too am a believer in liberalism—not the religion invented here from nothing, but true liberalism. I’m also not buying the opposition even if the worshippers had indeed occupied the square and people couldn’t pass through during the prayer (the protesters themselves note that in past years they did allow it). There are plenty of events that take over the public domain and limit our movement, and I don’t see how prayer differs from them. And again, I believe that for some people (not necessarily the less intelligent), the feelings of holy anger are authentic—but that’s the result of brainwashing and religious fanaticism of the kind I fight against in the truly religious world (i.e., actual religion, not the liberal one). It’s no wonder I expect (in vain) those who declare they dislike brainwashing, coercion, and religious fanaticism to fight against it even as they do all of it in exactly the same way.

Jewish or democratic state?

It’s important to note that none of this is said in the name of the state’s Jewishness. It has no connection. I’m in favor of liberalism even when it comes to Muslim prayer or missionary parades. I’m entirely in favor of religionization or secularization, proselytizing and repentance or “de-repentance,” in the public sphere. These have all become dirty words in our new religious world. But as a liberal (not religious), I believe the public domain should be a Hyde Park where everyone can speak and act as they see fit—however eccentric or odd—and each of us will let them do so and choose our own path. I’m sick of everyone explaining to others what may or may not be said or done in the public sphere. What’s legitimate and what isn’t. Everything is legitimate so long as you don’t harm someone. Eichler will babble his anti-Zionist drivel (in the name of the national camp, of course), and Levinstein will deliver his foolish lectures and spread his conspiracy theories under every green tree—and no one should be persecuted for it (though one may, of course, protest if one really feels like it). Is there a prohibition on being a fool? There isn’t even a prohibition on being wicked or mistaken, so long as you let others live their lives. Missionizing is not a dirty word. On the contrary: anyone who believes in something—I expect them to try to persuade others to their view. Whether Christian, Reform, Orthodox, Flat-Earther, or vegan. A democratic society of grown, rational people should encourage all this, not ban it.

Of course, none of the warring sides in today’s conflicts can really claim this, since neither is equally liberal, both threaten democracy, and neither lets us live here. But as I wrote in the whataboutism section above, I don’t intend to be a mouthpiece for either side. I claim this against both, in the name of democracy and liberalism—and really in the name of common sense—and it seems to me in the name of the majority, or at least a very large portion of the public. Let us live in peace and stop bothering us all. I don’t want honor for Judaism, nor honor for women, nor honor for religious or secular. I want to live. That’s all. As far as I’m concerned, no one needs to honor me. My late grandmother would have cared so much.

Conclusion

To conclude, I’ll bring here a précis of an article by Itamar Baz published in Ha’Ayin HaShevi’it (a media watchdog site). You’ll see why I wrote at the beginning that there’s nothing very novel here—and also why it’s still necessary. I’ll preface that there are several flaws in this ostensibly objective article. Starting with the use of loaded terms like “missionary activity” and “bringing people back to religion,” which covertly assume these actions are illegitimate and create very clear feelings against them in the biased reader. Continuing with a tendentious and incorrect description of Livskind’s arguments (as if he wrote that a journalist who examines and evaluates facts is taking an unfair path). Continuing with demonizing Israel Ze’ira (an “evil” rich businessman, heaven forfend) and accusing Ariel Schnabel of ignoring this “questionable” facet of Ze’ira, and more. But there’s nothing unusual in that; it’s the standard routine in our journalism—even though from an article in a forum for media criticism I’d expect a bit more critical sense and self-awareness. But our interest here is his central argument.

At the outset he brings statements by various columnists (on the right), particularly Nadav Ha’atzni and Kalman Livskind, who wrote roughly what I’ve written here. They argue that if someone doesn’t enjoy separate prayer, they should be so kind as to pray otherwise or not at all—but not impose their way on others. Our Itamar continues, saying that despite the similarity there’s a difference between Livskind and Ha’atzni:

Despite the similarity, there is a fundamental difference between Ha’atzni’s column and Livskind’s. They hold similar views, but Ha’atzni has a bit more intellectual honesty. He preaches “tolerance,” within which secular Tel-Avivians are asked to accept hardal “Rosh Yehudi,” but clarifies that tolerance should end when the other side tries “to take over public services and resources, or to impose a way of life and dress in public transportation or in the city’s streets.” In his words, Ze’ira’s return-to-religion activists are not such, and therefore did not deserve expulsion.

Livskind, by contrast, is a professional eye-closer. Return-to-religion activists, including Rosh Yehudi, operated in secular cities for years unimpeded, and often even relied on public budgets. In fact—as several columnists note—last Yom Kippur a similar prayer took place in Dizengoff Square and passed without disturbances. What changed is the context.

His main claim is twofold: (1) Livskind (unlike Ha’atzni) does not extend tolerance to the other side and demands tolerance only for his side; (2) Livskind (unlike Ha’atzni) ignores the context—namely the political-legal struggle of the past year—which aroused all these harsh, intolerant feelings.

The problem is that everyone is right. It’s true that it’s wrong to ignore context, and wrong to demand tolerance only of one side—but equally wrong is Itamar Baz’s thinking that these are substantive arguments. This is whataboutism in its usual (and flawed) usage. These are not substantive arguments, for a tolerant and liberal society should conduct debates differently—even when the other side is misbehaving (and indeed it is—but it’s also being hysterically demonized). If you have a political dispute with someone or with any group, conduct it on its merits. You cannot, because of that, silence mouths and prevent entirely legitimate actions by your opponent in the public sphere. You can and should raise arguments, debate, and offer alternatives (a Reform prayer in Bnei Brak, a Pride parade in Jerusalem), but not silence and not prevent the other from living as they understand. By this whataboutist logic, now that the religious are in power they should persecute every secular aspect, silence it, and prevent it by every tool at their disposal—after all, the rules have been broken and the game is off.

In my terms from above, I think our Itamar confuses understanding with justification. I fully understand the feelings of the protesters who blew up the prayer in the square in Tel Aviv, since their opponents are using steps no less problematic in the opposite direction. But still, I do not justify them (nor their opponents). This whataboutism leads us to ruin, since each side now feels the leash is off and anything goes. And if Benny Gantz, who tries to preserve the remnants of the rules of the game, condemns the violence in the square or against Levinstein, he immediately receives ugly slurs as the last of the traitors (see here and here). That’s no way to conduct a discussion. You can’t lament deviations from the rules and, in doing so, annihilate them completely. That applies to both sides. If you’ve nonetheless decided the game is over and therefore you don’t accept its rules (like freedom of speech and worship), don’t complain about those who deviate from its rules and use their governmental power against you.

And finally, I am not speaking of unity, nor in its name. The calls for unity—more or less fake (including prayers at the Kotel and other sticky acts)—are, in my view, whitewash. Indeed there is a majority of the nation opposed to the religious fanaticism of both sides—but when you turn to the two religions now confronting one another, this call is fake. Certainly when you hear it from people who want unity from one side only while continuing in their path trampling others. I have no interest in unity, nor is there any need to bury our heads in the sand and deny its absence and the depth of the rifts. My words here are said in the name of freedom and liberalism—not in the name of unity.

I don’t want you to be united with me. I want you to argue with me, to mock me and belittle me if you think that’s right, to protest and preach against me, to engage in religionization and secularization in the city square, to tussle politically (fairly) for your agendas—but let us live. Perhaps the time has come to organize a prayer at the Kotel against unity and against prayers for unity. I only hope that the believers of the two religions won’t unite to blow it up (oops, I remembered that there are partitions at the Kotel)…

Thus end the journalistic scoldings. In the next column I want to enter a bit into the theoretical dimension of this dispute.

This is a poster published in 1913, around the Hebrew-language controversy with the German, a-Zionist “Ezra” association. Thanks to Chayuta, who photographed this picture yesterday at the museum in Migdal Shalom and sent me the photo.