What Is Modern Orthodoxy: A Preliminary Analysis (Column 475)

ִ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.

In column 448 I discussed the prohibition of resorting to civil courts (*arkhaot*), and used it to illustrate the *passt nisht* considerations that I presented in the preceding column (regarding the obligation to destroy idolatry). This approach to dealing with the prohibition of civil courts in our day first occurred to me in a lecture I delivered at the founding conference (which apparently also served as the burial ceremony) of the Orthodox Forum in Israel. That conference attempted to import to Israel an American phenomenon, known among the People of Israel (not the State of Israel) as “Modern Orthodoxy.” It never truly took root here, though attempts to define the phenomenon and import it continue (in recent years this has been pursued mainly by Rabbi Ido Pachter).[1] In this column I will present a conceptual analysis on the basis of which, in the next column, I will examine the question of Modern Orthodoxy.

Modern Orthodoxy in a Nutshell

In Israel, the entire non-Haredi religious public is labeled “Religious-Zionist” (or the “national-religious” public), and people mistakenly identify that ideology with Modern Orthodoxy, although there is in fact no essential connection between them. Not for nothing is the latter also called here by its American name, “modern orthodox,” for it was conceived and born there and generally remains there. This idea has not managed to take root in Israel, and to this day there is almost no public that self-identifies as such (even if in practice it indeed is). The root of it all is a lack of understanding of this idea, and in particular confusion between it and Religious Zionism on the one hand, and Reform or Conservative Judaism on the other.

Briefly put, on the other side (the *sitra achra*) of the equation stands Haredism. The term “Haredism” serves as a header for two almost independent ideas: 1) opposition to Zionism;[2] 2) opposition to modern interpretations of Halakhah (from Reform down to heretics like me). One can discern within the Haredi world groups that emphasize the opposition to Zionism and others that stress conservatism and opposition to modernity; yet, overall, the Haredi idea comprises both features together. Consequently, those who are not Haredi can oppose Haredism either because of its anti-Zionism or because of its anti-modernity, or both. The former are Religious-Zionists; the latter are Modern Orthodox; and there is also a group that is both Modern Orthodox and Zionist (that is the majority of Modern Orthodoxy, but conceptually the two are not identical).

Accordingly, we can distinguish three ideologies within the non-Haredi world: A) Those who oppose anti-Zionism but not conservatism. Sociologically this is the *Hardal* public (Haredi-national). This group is conservative regarding Halakhah like the Haredim, but fervently Zionist. B) Those who oppose conservatism but not anti-Zionism. These hold non-Zionist or even anti-Zionist views, yet decidedly espouse modern values and more flexible interpretations of Halakhah. Sociologically this includes part of the “Torah im Derekh Eretz” public and certain Haredi groups (usually unorganized and without a recognized leadership). One can add here a few individuals who drifted leftwards out of Religious Zionism (disillusioned leftist Zionists) who maintain a liberal and modern stance toward Halakhah. C) Those who oppose both. These are the Modern Religious-Zionists. Sociologically they are not identified in Israel as a distinct group (though such people do exist here), and their organized activity and leadership are found mainly in the U.S. I will not enter here into the “lite” groups and traditionalist attitudes (which nowadays some are trying to anchor conceptually as a sort of ideology). In my view they are not truly on the ideological map, but rather a collection of phenomena that lie somewhere between convenience and folklore.

Needless to say, the Haredim see all these as Reform. The *Hardal* public views the other two non-Haredi groups as Reform or “lite” (whereas toward the Haredim they feel a deep sense of inferiority).[3] To differentiate themselves from the Haredim they are far more opposed to people and groups that harm their Zionist vision than to secular Jews.[4] The attitude of Modern Orthodoxy toward the other groups is unclear. The American phenomenon is very conservative regarding Halakhah and its sources (apart from certain modern elements, they are not essentially different from the Haredim. Even general education, for many of them, is a means of livelihood and not an independent value), and it certainly does not level sharp criticism at the Haredim (though R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik did criticize Haredi opposition to Zionism in his Five Addresses). In Israel, by contrast, the few who incline toward Modern Orthodoxy do indeed criticize Haredi and *Hardal* ossification and conservatism.

An Important Methodological Note: Sociology vs. Essence

The description in the previous section was phrased in a way that appears sociological. I referred to religious groups, and naturally the divisions between them are primarily sociological. But my goal here is not sociological; it is essential. My intent is to discuss religious conceptions rather than religious groups, even though there is, of course, a link between the two planes. When I speak of a “modern” or “Haredi” stance, I intend to refer to different types of argument, not to people or groups. Distinguishing between arguments is far more important than distinguishing between people.

To sharpen this: people and groups are complex beings and not always consistent or systematic. Thus, in many cases a Reform-style or modern argument can be voiced by someone sociologically classified as Haredi, just as a conservative argument can be voiced by someone classified as Reform, Heaven forfend. The sociological labeling of people prevents us from addressing the substance of the argument, and instead we suffice with addressing the arguer (“This person is Reform/conservative, and therefore his words are not worth engaging”). Beyond the damage, it is simply true that discussion of a person’s nature is unimportant. What do I care whether So-and-so is conservative, Reform, modern, and so on? What matters is whether his arguments are correct or not, and what I can adopt or reject from them. That is truly what should concern me. Judging the person is better left to the Judge of all the earth. Therefore, when I speak here of “Reform,” “modern,” “Religious-Zionist,” “Haredi,” “Hardal,” and the like, I am distinguishing between types of arguments and modes of thinking, not between types of people and groups.

So much for the general preface touching on the broad features of Modern Orthodoxy. I now return to begin a preliminary conceptual analysis; I will return to the question of Modern Orthodoxy in the next column.

The “Swimsuit Parable”

In columns 350 and 448 I briefly mentioned the example of swimsuits, which is very dear to me, and here I will flesh it out a little for the sake of the subsequent discussion (for a fuller analysis, see my essay “Conservatism and Innovation”).[5] Imagine a group of people who, together with their fathers and their fathers’ fathers (but, of course, not their mothers), walked in the desert wearing swimsuits. At some point they arrive in a cold region and debate whether to change clothing. One group says it will not deviate from the tradition of the fathers and therefore continues to wear swimsuits despite the cold. These are certainly conservatives. A second group declares that it will switch to warm clothing. Here things are more complex, since their characterization depends on the reasoning they rely on. If they switch to warm clothing simply because they are cold, then they are deniers. But there could be a different rationale. The group that favors warm clothing can claim that the tradition to be preserved is walking with attire suited to the weather. Their fathers wore swimsuits because they lived in a hot region, but they themselves, in a cold region, should wear warm clothing. In their view, that—and only that—is how one preserves the tradition of the fathers. Clearly, the group that bases itself on such a rationale is also conservative, only the principle it preserves is different. Here I will focus on the relationship between the two conservative groups.

The first group preserves the instruction as it is, literally: one must wear swimsuits. I therefore call its approach “literal conservatism.” The second group also preserves the tradition and its directives, but it interprets those directives midrashically. It proposes to interpret the directive to wear a swimsuit through a *midrash* (I mean a rational interpretation, not *midrash* in the sense of a formal halakhic *derashah*): the intent is to wear clothing appropriate to the weather. A swimsuit was merely one application of the more general directive for a particular climate. I call this approach “midrashic conservatism.” Since this is a hypothetical example (in which the directive is not necessarily a matter of value), I ask that we ignore the fact that the midrashic conservatives’ proposal is also more convenient. That is incidental, and in the real halakhic and ethical world there are situations where midrashic conservatism yields greater stringency rather than leniency. Sometimes changed circumstances dictate stringency compared to the previous state, and still that is midrashic conservatism. Many of the halakhic stringencies that are periodically innovated are the result of innovation grounded in conservative *midrash*. Here I focus only on the logic of the argument.

Between a Midrashic Conservative and a Heretic

What distinguishes the midrashic conservative from the heretic is the existence of the conservative *midrash*. The midrashic conservative does not merely propose change. He relies on a *midrash* whose aim is to show that this change is not a change at all but an authentic continuation of the tradition under new circumstances. The heretic, by contrast, does not seek to align his position with the tradition at all, because he is not committed to it. In the essay cited above I also addressed another stance—Reform—which advocates a less than full commitment, but I will not enter that here.

There is a tendency to think that the literal conservative surely continues the tradition, whereas the midrashic conservative holds a speculative position (who says his *midrash* is correct?! Hence he is sometimes suspected of hiding convenience and interest behind his midrashic argument). But one must understand that the picture is entirely symmetric. From the standpoint of the midrashic conservative, it is the literal conservative who deviates from the tradition, for the tradition says one must wear clothing suited to the weather—and he does not do so. I once called this “criminal conservatism.”

The Conservative *Midrash*

We thus learn that the crux of the discussion is the conservative *midrash*. How does it function? We have a directive to do X. We know that the circumstances in the past were A, and now they have changed to B. We assume that the change of circumstances is relevant to the interpretation of the directive, and therefore we conclude that the directive should now be changed to Y. For example, one might argue that nowadays women should be eligible to testify (Y). Although the Sages of the Talmud disqualified them (X), the circumstances then (A) were such that women were not involved in commerce and the world at large and did not acquire general education, as they stayed at home and engaged in domestic crafts. Today the circumstances have changed (B), since women participate in all realms of life. Therefore they should now be eligible to testify (Y). This is the archetype of an argument proposing a change in Halakhah or in any normative system.

Set out systematically, this pattern of argument looks like this:

Premise A (normative): There exists a directive X that was formulated in the past.

Premise B (factual): The circumstances that prevailed in the past were A.

Premise C (factual): The circumstances today are B.

Conclusion: The directive should now be changed to Y.

Such an argument is not valid. One can easily see this by examining its structure. All its premises are factual while the conclusion is normative. An argument of this form cannot be valid, for it derives an “ought” from an “is” (what is often called “the naturalistic fallacy”). Note that although Premise A appears normative, its normative aspect is irrelevant to the argument—that is, the derivation of the conclusion does not hinge on it. To see this, we can present the same argument slightly differently:

Premise A (factual): The circumstances that prevailed in the past were A.

Premise B (factual): The circumstances today are B.

Conclusion: The directive should be changed from X to Y.

Here the premises are purely factual. What is missing? Any argument that suffers from the naturalistic fallacy can be completed by adding a bridge-premise—that is, a premise that connects the factual plane to the normative plane. In our case we can add the following premise:

Premise C: The directive X derives from the circumstances A (that is, in circumstances B it is not relevant).

In the example above, the missing premise is that women’s disqualification as witnesses stemmed from their lack of familiarity with commerce and society. This is the claim of a midrashic conservative, for he is proposing a change in the system of directives that rests on a *midrash*, namely a different interpretation of the directives. In our example the midrashic conservative suggests that the Sages did not disqualify women as such, but rather disqualified groups that are not involved in the life of society and commerce. A change in the application of the directive in our day therefore follows.

The literal conservative, of course, rejects this out of hand. In his view the directive must be observed as it stands without subjecting it to *midrashim*. This does not mean he thinks there is no rationale behind the directive. On the contrary, most conservatives accept that halakhic directives have logic and reason at their base, but in their view one must not take that into account when interpreting and observing the directives.

This leads us to understand why the bridge-premise is so crucial in this discussion, and why ignoring it empties the discussion of content. In most cases the debate about change revolves precisely around it. I assume that most of us would agree that there has in fact been a change of circumstances regarding women’s status and occupations between antiquity and our day. And yet a sober literal conservative—one who accepts the two factual premises—disputes the conclusion. How so? He simply does not accept the bridge-premise. In his view there is no reason to assume that the disqualification of women results from lack of acquaintance with society or lack of education. In minimal terms: the burden of proof that this is so lies on the midrashic conservative. There is also a broader formulation that views the commandments as directives disconnected from reason (having no rational basis), but that is a very odd position (especially when dealing with the Sages’ learning of a *midrash* or an interpretation of a verse, which clearly rests on their reason), and therefore I will not address it here.

Note that in the minimalist formulation the literal conservative concedes something. He too agrees that if I bring proof for this change, the directive should be altered. But, he claims, one must bring proof, and in the absence of proof the accepted interpretation remains in place, akin to a presumption based on the prior state (*chazakah de-me’ikara*) or the rule that doubt does not override certainty. I will return to this point below.

An Example: The Presumption “A Person Does Not Repay Before Its Time”[6]

To sharpen further the structure of the midrashic argument and the assumptions it makes about Halakhah, I will discuss a neutral halakhic topic (one that does not arouse overly strong conservative emotions): “There is a presumption that a person does not repay before its time.” The Talmud (Bava Batra 5a) establishes a presumption that a person does not repay a debt before the final due date. He prefers to hold onto the money as long as he can. Hence the rule: if Reuven sues Shimon to pay a debt, and the suit is filed a week after the loan, and Shimon claims he already repaid—he is not believed. The loan was given for thirty days, and it is unlikely he repaid within a week. Of course, if he brings evidence he will be believed, but by default the burden of proof rests on him. Note that the one holding the money is Shimon, the borrower (the lender wants him to pay), i.e., this rule runs counter to the general rule that “the burden of proof lies with the extractor.” Perhaps one can say that this very presumption constitutes the plaintiff’s evidence that extracts the money from the borrower.

Let us now suppose the reality has changed, and for one reason or another people do repay before the due date. Does this sugya become a dead letter? Can we erase it from the Talmud? Certainly not. This sugya was not written to teach about people’s customs and psychology. Those are factual questions, and as such one must form positions about them by observing reality, not by studying the Talmud and its commentators. The Talmud comes to teach norms; in this case it teaches that if there is a presumption, it can shift the balance of power between plaintiff and possessor and transfer the burden of proof. Which presumption exists in reality is a factual question that can also change over time, across places and circumstances. The lesson of this sugya is to teach the normative principle, not the facts. For our purposes, the sugya’s conclusion is not, as the literal conservative understands, that a person is not believed to claim repayment before the due date. The sugya’s conclusion is the result of a *midrash*: a person is not believed to claim something that runs counter to a presumption. What is the presumption? That is a factual question about circumstances.

What Is Halakhah?

In fact, the conclusion from this analysis is much broader. Factual determinations are never Torah. More than that: Halakhah is not even simple normative determinations such as “a person is not believed to claim repayment before the due date.” Halakhah is a set of bridge-principles that deal with aligning facts and the norms derived from them. In this case: if there is a presumption X, then a defendant who claims “not-X” bears the burden of proof (despite being the possessor). This is exactly parallel to the determination that one must wear clothing suited to the weather, rather than “one must wear a swimsuit.” The practical outcome—what to do in practice—is the application of the bridge-principle to the current circumstances (and not to those that prevailed once upon a time).

We can describe it thus: generally speaking, Halakhah concerns itself with attaching a normative directive to given factual circumstances. This attachment rests on bridge-principles that carry me from the circumstances to the directive. But Halakhah is not the directive, and certainly not the circumstances themselves. Halakhah is the principle that carries me from the one to the other. One can liken this to logic. When we infer a conclusion from premises, logic does not concern itself with the premises or the conclusion. It concerns itself with the derivation of the conclusion from the premises, which is precisely analogous to the bridge-principles. Let me illustrate with a hackneyed example. Consider an argument that assumes that all humans are mortal and that Socrates is a human, and derives from these that Socrates is mortal. Which element is the province of logic? Neither the premises nor the conclusion. Logic concerns itself with the bridge-rule that carries us from the premises to the conclusion: if all X are Y and a is X, then a is Y. Logic deals with the structure of the argument, not its content.

In the same measure, Halakhah concerns itself with the structure of thought—not with the circumstances and not with the halakhic bottom line (the normative outcomes). Thus, for example, according to the conservative *midrash*, Halakhah does not disqualify women as witnesses; rather, it says that if there is a group lacking familiarity with the world and with various fields of knowledge, that group is disqualified from testimony. Which group is that, and how do we identify it? That is answered by observing reality, not by studying the Talmud. That is not Halakhah’s concern. The determination that disqualifies women is not Halakhah, nor are the factual determinations (about the nature of women). Halakhah focuses solely on the bridge-principle. Consequently, the principle of the eternity of Halakhah pertains only to the bridge-principles, not to the facts and not to the normative conclusion.

Up to this point the analysis seems sound and reasonable. The presumption that one does not repay before the due date is comprehensible, and any sensible halakhist will supply it with an appropriate conservative *midrash*. I find it hard to imagine a court that would obligate someone who claims to have repaid early in circumstances where people customarily do repay early. But with other examples, like qualifying women for testimony, I assume that some readers feel uneasy. Likewise, regarding presumptions such as “ṭav le-meitav tan du” (that a woman prefers to be married rather than single), which have far-reaching implications for women in rabbinic courts—most decisors will not operate with midrashic conservatism. I see no essential difference between the cases, for the logic in all of them is that of a conservative *midrash*. It is true that in the presumption about not repaying early, the *midrash* lies more on the surface and seems self-evident. But that is purely technical. Even in “ṭav le-meitav” the *midrash* lies on the surface: there is a factual claim that women want partnership at any price. One can simply check whether that is indeed today’s reality. Although the *midrash* here is entirely obvious and legitimate, most decisors oppose using it. Here one can no longer claim that the *midrash* is not self-evident. The problem is more sociological (fear of liberals who espouse women’s equality: the envoys of the New Israel Fund, the LGBTQ community, and the Elders of the International Left).

This brings me to the question of where and how to apply the conservative *midrash*, and what to do when we lack such a *midrash*.

More on the Conservative *Midrash*

Let us return to the example of women’s disqualification as witnesses. We saw that the focal point is the bridge-principle, and the midrashic proposal is that Halakhah does not disqualify women but rather groups lacking familiarity with the world and various fields of knowledge. The literal conservative, of course, objects. He can base his objection on several kinds of counter-arguments: 1) Denying the facts: the Sages and the Torah knew women’s nature well, and therefore it clearly has not changed (“You are living under factual brainwashing”). 2) Rejecting the possibility of value-based change: “This Torah shall not be exchanged.” The rule does not depend on women’s nature; changing their status undermines the principle of the eternity of the Torah (“You are brainwashed by liberalism”). 3) *Ta‘ama de-kra*: even if that rationale is correct, in Halakhah we do not interpret laws by their reasons (especially purposive interpretation). 4) Limited midrashic conservatism: the burden of proof is on you. You have not proven that the disqualification of women is grounded in lack of education/acquaintance with the world. The last argument acknowledges the possibility of conservative *midrashim* but demands that their proponent furnish evidence that they are correct.

In the discussion here I will ignore denial of the facts, since that is simply ignoring reality. I will also ignore the claim that laws have no reasons, if only because this law is the result of a *derashah* and not something explicitly written in the Torah. A *midrash* by definition rests on the reason of the *darshan*. For the same reason I will not relate to the claim about the eternity of the Torah, for eternity pertains to the bridge-principles and not to the bottom lines. I will also ignore here the claim that this is *ta‘ama de-kra*. The rule that we do not interpret laws by their reasons was said only about laws written explicitly, not about laws derived from *derashot*, since there, as noted, the rationale is always in the background.

We are left with the last problem: such conservative *midrashim* can be proposed by the dozen, and there is no way to critique them. All of Halakhah could thus be emptied of content, since one could always offer an ungrounded conservative *midrash* and change it. Shabbat was instituted for those who worked hard, and today people do not work hard. The prohibition of pork came from Jebusite influence and today its rationale no longer applies, and so forth. It is important to distinguish here between the “slippery slope” claim—that is, the fear of baseless *midrashim* that will uproot Halakhah—and the substantive claim that raises the slippery slope only as an indicator (see column 429 on the types of slippery-slope arguments). The former is, in my view, irrelevant. I am dealing with whether the midrashic interpretation is correct. Fears about where it will lead are legitimate considerations, but second-order ones (and we also have no authority to reject a correct interpretation on the basis of such considerations. That would be legislation, and we have no Sanhedrin empowered to legislate). In general, I will only say that for my part there is no limit to such considerations. Even if the entire Halakhah were to change and our slope became a skating rink—if that is truly the correct interpretation, then indeed everything should change. There is no need to fear changes if they are correct. Despite the understandable fears, I am unwilling to set an a priori limit on the use of conservative *midrash*. I am willing to accept local ordinances or decrees that arise from a specific concern, but that too is possible only if done by a competent body (a Sanhedrin, or perhaps the consensus of all the sages of the generation).

Having rejected most of the literal conservative’s counter-arguments and the slippery-slope claim, I will address here only the last claim in its second, substantive form: that without foundation and evidence from the sources one cannot assume the proposed *midrash* is correct. Seemingly such a *midrash* is mere speculation. Before I answer, note that this claim means that in order to confront the literal conservative’s objection, the midrashic conservative must clear two hurdles and in fact present two levels of *midrash*: at the first level he must propose a midrashic interpretation of the directive at hand (one must wear clothing suited to the weather; disqualification from testimony applies to a group lacking familiarity/education, etc.). At the second level he must offer support for the first-level *midrash*. He must bring evidence from halakhic/traditional sources that women’s disqualification indeed stems from lack of familiarity/education, or that the directive to wear swimsuits is indeed due to climate-appropriateness.

My answer to this objection (the second level) is rather brief. Even in the absence of grounding in the sources, I accept a conservative *midrash* by virtue of its internal logic. If we consider the proposal to qualify women for testimony, and suppose for the sake of discussion that we did not find authoritative sources that would decide whether the disqualification stems from deficiencies in women or whether it is a law grounded in some unknown rationale—still we face two possibilities: A) assume we have before us a law with an unknown rationale; B) assume we have a comprehensible law grounded in female characteristics. Even without proof and source that ground it, option B is the more rational. There is no reason to reject a reasonable interpretation on the claim that perhaps there is some unknown alternative that we do not recognize. This is simple sevara, and of course one can bolster it with halakhic principles (which themselves emerged from common sense, not from verses): a judge has only what his eyes see; doubt does not override certainty. Nowhere have I seen a proposal for a reasonable explanation of some law rejected merely because perhaps there is some other unknown explanation—without the rejector adducing any proof for his words. There is no logic in that.[7]

Note, too, that even the Meiri, in his proposal to change our attitude toward gentiles (because in our day they are “bound by the civilized norms of nations,” i.e., behave in a reasonably humane way—see about this here), brought no sources that support his conservative *midrash*. And indeed he (and essentially I, who follow him—see the beginning of column 74) stokes the anger of literal conservatives precisely because a conservative *midrash* is being proposed here without foundation in the sources. My answer to them is that while it would be good if such a foundation could be found, in its absence the very logic gives this proposal the edge, and the burden of proof lies on the literal conservatives. One can, of course, debate the facts and claim that gentiles today are exactly as they once were—and there are not a few who do so (ignoring or denying reality are common tactics among our literal conservative cousins)—but there is no room for the claim against the very method of conservative *midrash*.

I will go further. There is a very intuitive sense that the burden of proof should fall on the midrashic conservative, since he is the one proposing to change the status quo. I accept this in principle, but once he proposes a reasonable interpretation and the literal conservative does not point to a flaw nor offer an alternative explanation, in my view the burden has been met. Now the burden shifts to him. If we return to the swimsuit example, we can present this more sharply: from the perspective of the midrashic conservative, it is the literal conservative who comes to change the past practice (for our forefathers walked wearing clothing suited to the weather, and he proposes to change that). On that view, the presumption favors the midrashic conservative and not the literal conservative. So too with qualifying women to testify and other topics. Thus, for each side, the picture of the presumption looks different, and the feeling that the burden lies on the midrashic conservative because there is a presumption favoring the literal conservative is incorrect: it tacitly assumes the literal conservative’s approach. From another angle, one can say that it is reality that has changed compared to the past (women’s nature, or the climate), not Halakhah. And indeed, regarding reality one can certainly say that we are overturning a presumption—but regarding reality there is no dispute that it has in fact changed. The dispute concerns only the halakhic implications of that change, and regarding those there is no agreed presumption.

One more remark. The common feeling is that literal preservation is the safe route and comes at no cost. Hence the midrashic conservative is at a disadvantage and the burden should be imposed on him. But this is a mistake. One must understand that literal conservatism also has a heavy price. If there is a murder or theft case for which we have only female witnesses, and we disqualify them because of literal conservatism, the price is a miscarriage of justice and sometimes danger to the public. I have already noted that from the standpoint of the midrashic conservative, the literal conservative is a criminal (“criminal conservatism”), for he acts against Halakhah. Here we see that this conservative crime carries a very heavy cost—no less, and perhaps greater, than the price of midrashic conservatism in the literal conservative’s eyes. In short, there is full symmetry between the two approaches, and the sense of asymmetry stems from (sometimes unconscious) adoption of literal conservatism. This, by the way, is one of many examples of the harm caused by conservatism, which I discussed in the past (see column 249 and, in response, column 444).[8]

In short, my claim is that a conservative *midrash* should be evaluated by its internal logic. It is easiest to reject all *midrashim* out of hand and without argument—merely by claiming they lack foundation and that accepting them enables turning all of Halakhah on its head and emptying it of content—or by invoking presumptions (*chazakah de-me’ikara*, “the status quo”). But that is unjustified hysteria. The logic underlying the *midrash* about women’s disqualification from testimony is entirely reasonable (even if not as compelling as in the presumption about not repaying early). It is not a detached proposal. Detached proposals do not pass the test at the first level, since they lack a midrashic interpretation, even before the question of proof and foundation. A midrashic interpretation, by definition, passes the first level; therefore the discussion should be only about the second level (what evidence supports it).

In the next columns we will see further examples that will clarify and sharpen the matter.

Sociological Identification

I wrote that I am not dealing here with the sociological identification and characterization of the various groups but with a classification of types of argument. Still, to sharpen the meaning of these characterizations, I must resort a bit to sociology. Literal conservatism characterizes the Haredi ethos. A Haredi person lives with the consciousness that what he does was given to Moses at Sinai and that so it has been practiced through all generations. The foundational principle of Haredism is the prohibition to deviate from the customs of our forefathers (who, as is known, did not change their language, dress, etc.; as is well known, Moses spoke Yiddish and wore a frock coat and gartel). Sober Haredim, of course, know that things developed (including Halakhah, not only customs). Still, the ethos that shapes them is literal conservatism: everything, absolutely everything, was given to Moses at Sinai. My uncle used to say that Abaye and Rava studied in Yiddish (for they knew how to learn, and they were not *Mizrachi-niks*. Whoever knows how to learn surely learns in Yiddish). He of course knows that this is not literally how it was, but his relation to that ethos is entirely serious.

I do not know how such a sober literal conservative reconciles the facts with the ethos. Perhaps he means that if they were alive today, they would study in Yiddish. But he will in all seriousness repeat the dicta of the Sages that everything a veteran student is destined to innovate was given to Moses at Sinai; its generalities and particulars are from Sinai; and so forth—together with solid familiarity with sugyot in which laws were innovated on the Sages’ own reasoning, or in which opinions dispute various laws, and so on.[9] Moreover, we saw above that in many important cases literal conservatives do engage in conservative *midrash*, as in the presumption about not repaying early. The battles rage over contentious topics tied to modern values, such as the status of women and of the gentile (such as the “ṭav le-meitav” presumption), and not always because of the weakness of the conservative *midrash*.[10]

We are approaching our subject. I will only note that the midrashic conservative is the Modern Orthodox Jew. He preserves the tradition but interprets it in accordance with the circumstances. The fundamentalist literal conservative is unaware that his own Torah has undergone changes and adaptations. He denies that there were any changes and truly lives with the feeling that Moses and Abraham wore black frock coats and prayed the Amidah. True, we saw that the sober literal conservative does accept conservative *midrashim* (as in the presumption about not repaying early). The difference between him and the midrashic conservative lies mainly in the ethos, not in actual conduct. There are differences of degree, of course, but in principle both views accept the legitimacy of conservative *midrashim*. Most types of literal conservatives, when reacting to a conservative *midrash*, treat it as Reform and accuse it of deviating from the directives. They ostensibly do not recognize, in principle, the legitimacy of conservative *midrashim*. The literal conservative—even the sober one—truly lives the ethos, and in his view every such change is an injury to the Torah given at Sinai. Naturally, he usually does not give himself an accounting of the changes that the Halakhah he upholds has undergone (though some are aware of them), and certainly does not set criteria that would distinguish between legitimate and illegitimate changes (in the sixth part of my book Between the Standing I propose a map of the theory of halakhic change, and in my view it is entirely legitimate from the standpoint of the traditional conception of Halakhah, though perhaps not from the standpoint of the Orthodox conception of Halakhah).[11]

Up to here I have presented the conceptual system and principles. We must now bring them down to earth and use them to examine the ideas of Modern Orthodoxy and the disputes surrounding it.

[1] See, for example, a review here of his book Judaism on a Spectrum.

[2] On this point I will remain vague, because in my view support for or opposition to Zionism are empty ideas. They have no practical meaning apart from a single blessing on one day of the year. For me, Zionism and anti-Zionism are sentiment, not a conception. But for the sake of the discussion I cleave here to the way people define themselves. My chief concern in this column is with the second component (modernity), not with Zionism.

[3] And justifiably so, from their perspective, since the Haredim are better than they are: more insular, more conservative, more proficient in Shas and its commentators, more devoted to pure study, and more abstinent from secular studies.

[4] For the *Hardal* public, being a religious leftist or liberal is far worse than being a right-winger who devours non-kosher meat and violates the laws of family purity (or a “Zionist,” in their narrow understanding of that term). All these, as is known, are the agents of the New Israel Fund, the LGBTQ community, and the European Union—those responsible for the protocols of the Council of Elders of the Left. A contemporary example: see the report here that Yeshivat Mercaz HaRav would not invite Prime Minister Bennett that year to the Jerusalem Day celebrations, even though they used to invite every secular prime minister before him, and of course also presidents of the state and chiefs of staff across the generations (all of whom are, as is well known, pious men). I presume that, in their eyes, a religious prime minister who cooperates with leftists (and also opposes *Hardal* dictates) is worse than the leftists themselves. That item reminded me of a decision by the journal Tzohar. While editing one of my articles I was astonished to discover that they decided to write “Prof. L.” instead of “Prof. Leibowitz,” no less. When I asked, they explained that this was the instruction of R. Tzvi Yehuda: do not mention the wicked by name. I asked why they did not change Ben-Gurion (who also appeared in that article)—a champion pursuer of religion and religious Jews—to “B.G.”, and they explained to me, quite reasonably, that “L.” was much worse than “B.G.” Happy are you, Israel—the “national” ones and the “general” ones who grasp the mantle of “generality,” while shrinking it to those made in their own image, holding by the trait of “general-particular-general.” They appear to me similar to those liberals who are very open and tolerant toward the whole range of opinions—so long as they are their own opinions.

[5] And more comprehensively in the lecture series available here.

[6] For a detailed discussion of the example and of the structure of the conservative argument and its assumptions generally, see my lecture here.

[7] True, in several places we find: “Shall we act merely because we are imagining?” But since, in my view, that stance is irrational, we must interpret all those places as ones where there was good reason to doubt the proposed interpretation, or where it is reasonable that the relevant reality did not change; and if the existing law differs, then the burden of proof lies on whoever comes to change it.

[8] Innovation also has downsides, of course, but people find those self-evident (conservatives point to them constantly). Hence I focused here on the other side. Note, however, that here too there is no symmetry: when an innovator proposes an idea that has advantages, if the conservative raises only the claim that this deviates from the accepted (the wisdom of the generations, etc.), the conservative is at a disadvantage. The innovator points to advantages in his proposal while the conservative suffices with raising a doubt—precisely as I argued above.

[9] A nice example is the tradition that one does not derive a *gezerah shavah* on one’s own unless received from one’s teacher. The Ramban and his students already noted that this cannot be correct, for we often find disputes about *gezerot shavot* (see the *Encyclopedia Talmudit* under “Gezerah Shavah”).

[10] Regarding the attitude toward the gentile, see my essay “A Gentile Whom Halakhah Did Not Recognize”, my essay “Is There Enlightened Idolatry? On Attitudes Toward Gentiles”, and in greater detail chapter 36 of my book Between the Standing.

[11] As is known, Orthodoxy is a kind of ideology, and as such it is in essence a modern phenomenon.