A Look at Judaism and Jewish Identity: Part C (Column 338)

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 the two previous columns I wondered what could serve as a definition of Judaism (as distinct from Jewishness). In this column I will continue and sharpen the meaning of these two concepts, beginning with methodological preliminaries presented as responses to claims that appeared in the talkbacks to those columns.

An incorrect definition that still holds water

The conclusion I reached is that the only parameter that can serve as a touchstone for Judaism is halakha. Following various comments in the talkbacks, I must reiterate that I am not hinging this on any particular definition or conception of halakha. Anyone who is committed to the halakha given to us at Sinai—whatever, in his view, its interpretations and ramifications may be—can claim he is Jewish. For all I care, he may adhere to an interpretation that halakha obligates him to stand on one foot or to go to church every Wednesday. He may be Conservative or Orthodox, believe in the absolute authority of the Talmud or not, believe in resurrection and individual providence or not—still, his definition of Judaism holds water. In some cases I will argue with his interpretation or position, both theologically and halakhically, yet I will still maintain that he is offering a definition that holds water. In contrast are definitions that do not include halakha (under any interpretation), such as the definitions common among Reform Jews (for whom there is no halakha), which do not hold water.[1] There is a difference between a definition that is (in my view) wrong or disputed and an empty definition that does not hold water.[2]

Thus, for example, I was asked in one talkback what I think of someone who underwent a Conservative conversion. Is he Jewish according to my definition? I do not know what a Conservative conversion includes, or whether they even have a single binding scheme, but let us assume for the sake of discussion that he converted in a way that is invalid according to halakha (as I understand it). I would still argue that according to the Conservatives’ own definition he is Jewish, and I agree that this definition, while in my opinion incorrect, still holds water. We have a real dispute about what conversion is, but that dispute has two sides. In contrast, someone who underwent a Reform conversion is clearly not Jewish. There, I argue, their use of the term “Jew” is not a respectable but mistaken position; it is simply an error and a confusion of concepts. Consider a disagreement (which in fact exists) about whether game theory is part of mathematics. Suppose I think it is not, yet I understand that someone who disagrees with me is offering a definition that holds water (though, in my view, a wrong one). By contrast, a person who uses the word “mathematician” to describe a cobbler is not presenting a defensible but mistaken position. It is a position that does not hold water at all.

The demand that a definition be unique and essential

I will say more (I noted this in a talkback to the previous column): even if there is a characteristic unique to Jews, if that uniqueness is merely accidental (that is, it could have appeared in another group), it still should not enter the definition of the concept “Judaism.” Suppose the entire world were racist except for the Jews. Would anti-racism be a good definition (a touchstone) for Judaism? In my opinion, no—because anti-racism is not essential to Judaism per se. There is nothing preventing other groups from opposing racism; even if, in fact, that were uniquely true of Jews, it would still not place anti-racism within our definition of Judaism. For example, only Jews eat cholent on Shabbat, but eating cholent is not part of the definition of Judaism (contrary to the way people always quote the Baal HaMaor on Perek Kira). I say this even assuming that Judaism indeed fundamentally and decisively opposes racism and was unique in that opposition. The Torah and our tradition also support the trait of humility. Is it reasonable to define Judaism through humility? That is absurd.

In several talkbacks people argued for various traits that are indeed characteristic of Judaism and even unique to it. I repeat: even if both requirements are met (being characteristic and being unique), that still is not enough. For the trait to enter the definition (to be part of the touchstone), it must be essential to Judaism—and to Judaism alone. One indication of essentiality is that it characterizes only Judaism; but that is a necessary, not a sufficient, condition.

Constitutive and targeted definitions

Quite a few respondents argued that there are groups within the Jewish population that define Judaism differently than I do, and who am I to decide who is Jewish and what counts as a definition that holds water?! I must clarify something I only hinted at previously.

In column 108 I showed that there are two kinds of definitions: a constitutive definition and a targeted definition (somewhat akin to the distinction between derash that creates and derash that supports). A constitutive definition “baptizes” a concept—that is, the concept is created by the definition (it constitutes it). In this case there is no point in arguing about the definition, because notions of “true” and “false” do not apply. What we stipulate is, by definition, the concept, and that’s that. It is an arbitrary matter, and in Saul Kripke’s terms, it is fixed by an act of “baptism.” A targeted definition, by contrast, attempts to capture a concept that existed prior to our formulation and conceptualization. Thus, people try to define what mathematics is, what philosophy is, or what poetry is (this is what I addressed in that series of columns). In such cases we are not dealing with an arbitrary constitutive definition. The definition attempts to hit the target of a preexisting concept, and therefore there is room for dispute among different positions about it. In such cases there truly are correct and incorrect definitions. The question under dispute is which definition best captures the content and essence of the concept at issue.

The claims against me mentioned above assume that the discussion about the definition of “Jew” is a constitutive one, and therefore they deny the possibility of arguing about it. Those claimants accept any definition someone proposes as valid simply because someone proposed it and thinks so, and thus they see no room for debate. In their eyes, these are merely different uses of the same linguistic term (expressing different concepts), and no more. I, by contrast, argue that there is a concept “Jew,” and our discussion seeks to capture its essence and core content. Therefore, I do believe there are right and wrong answers here, and there are correct and incorrect definitions. In fact, there are definitions that hold water but are wrong, those that hold water and are correct, and those that do not hold water at all.

From this you will understand that there is no place for the question “who appointed me” to determine the correct definition and who is a Jew. No one appointed me, and I am not decreeing the correct definition. I am stating my view regarding the true content of the concept. I am not arrogating to myself the authority to set the content; I am asserting what that content is—just as no one empowered a physicist to decide that bodies with mass fall to Earth. He is not the one who established the law of gravity; he merely claims that such a law exists and presents its correct description. If someone thinks otherwise, let him present his position with reasons, and we will argue. This is not a question of authority, paternalism, and the like—which all presume that the definitions under discussion (perhaps all definitions) are constitutive and arbitrary.

Descriptive vs. essential definitions

Continuing the above, I will add that I am also not attempting in these columns to describe the prevalent conceptions of the term “Jew.” Even a majority does not decide here, because a majority can be wrong—just as the majority is not necessarily right when defining the concept “mathematics.” The criterion of “following the majority” as a substantive claim[3] implicitly assumes a constitutive definition, and that is not the case. The discussion here is not a sociological-lexical description of how the term “Jew” is used, but an inquiry into the true essence of the concept (and it assumes that such an essence exists). This of course does not mean I am necessarily right; I am presenting a position, and whoever disagrees must also present a reasoned counter-position.[4]

Moreover, one should not infer from this that the essence is fixed and unchangeable. I accept the possibility that a concept can have a dynamic essence—that it may appear in different periods and circumstances in very different forms, yet still be a continuation of the same concept. In such a case one must persuade me that the later manifestation is indeed an authentic continuation of the earlier one—not merely on an ethnic basis (that the later manifestation is held by those defined as Jews according to the earlier definition. See, for example, here). Since the definition is targeted and essential (not constitutive and not descriptive), its use is not arbitrary and requires justification.

Disputes about concepts

I have noted in the past that many of our disputes revolve around the definitions of concepts. The debate over “who is a Jew” is one of the most prominent. But one can also argue about what democracy is, what anthropology is, or what the rules of morality are. Often, in the course of such a dispute, a claim or a sense arises that the matter is merely semantic. You call your concept “Jew,” I’ll call mine “Israeli,” and we will part as friends (what I once called “semantic separation”). Why fight over the right to use a word?!

My claim is that the very existence of a dispute indicates that both sides agree that the concept has real content; they disagree about what that content is (or what its core and essence are). Otherwise it would be a convention—i.e., a constitutive definition—and then there would be no point or possibility of arguing about it (one would simply separate semantically). The dispute over the concept “Jew” testifies that all sides agree on at least one point: that it has some content; that is, it is a targeted, not a constitutive, definition. Sometimes the dispute is about this very issue—whether there is such a definition: one side will say there is and propose it; the other will say “you have no monopoly on _,” meaning that in his view it is a constitutive definition and several different definitions may be proposed (so there is no dispute). To my judgment this is not the state of affairs regarding the concept “Jew.” True, there are sides that use the “you have no monopoly on _” type of argument, but they hide beneath it a concrete proposal—or at least the illusion of one (cf. Inbari and yoga in the previous column).

In this sense, between me and Buchdahl there is no real dispute. We are talking about different concepts and are not arguing about the same one. By contrast, with the Conservatives (under the assumptions above—that they have a different definition of halakha and of conversion) I have a real dispute. We are arguing over the targeted content of the concept “Jew,” or “conversion.” Moreover, even with Rabbi Brandes—who is a wise and learned man (and also a friend of mine)—I seemingly had a sharp dispute regarding conversion (see my article here). He proposed dispensing with acceptance of the commandments in the conversion process (and rightly noted that even in the state conversion apparatus this is done with winks and turning a blind eye), and I wrote an article arguing that acceptance of the commandments is the essence of conversion (and of Judaism). But note that in light of what I have written here, this is not a dispute at all. I explained there that he is essentially proposing conversion to Israeliness instead of standard halakhic conversion to Judaism (he himself does not see it that way), which is a different concept from halakhic conversion. Because there are no halakhic components in that “Judaism,” then even if circumcision and immersion are performed during the process, as long as there is no acceptance of the commandments, this is not Judaism (perhaps Jewishness), and therefore there is no conversion.[5]

Open/complex concepts

Another claim raised in the talkbacks is that the concept “Jew” is flexible and cannot be defined. The punctilious will add that the very existence of such sharp disputes about it is proof of that. I say that the existence of a dispute proves nothing. If indeed we are dealing with a targeted, not a constitutive, definition, then in such a dispute there is a side that is right and a side that is wrong. That’s all. When there is a scientific dispute over quantum theory, does that mean there is no correct answer and that everyone is right? Likewise for any factual dispute. So too for the dispute over the definition of Judaism. When one treats the existence of a dispute as evidence that there is no correct answer, one implicitly assumes a constitutive definition; but as noted, that is not our case. The same happens in disputes over whether G-d exists (see, for example, columns 294, 247, and 53).

So how do such polarized disputes arise on such topics? In some cases, such a dispute indicates that the concept is open and flexible. There are concepts for which it is difficult—perhaps impossible—to offer a sharp definition. In some sense, all the concepts in our everyday language are like that (unlike mathematical concepts—though even there there is room for debate, but this is not the place). Some will declare that if there is no definition, the concept simply does not exist; it is a linguistic fiction not worth discussing. I certainly do not belong to that camp. In my view, many existing concepts (not necessarily in the Platonic sense, but only in the sense that they precede their definitions—which are targeted, not constitutive) are difficult or even impossible to define sharply. I am fully aware that we cannot always offer a clear and sharp definition of our concepts, and I do not see that as a principled problem. We should try to overcome that difficulty, but it is part of life and of the limits of our thought and expression.

But this situation opens the door to intellectual anarchy. People tend to exploit the flexible margins of a concept to claim it has no truly defined content, and therefore no definition; from there they conclude that one can say whatever one wants about it and define it in any way that seems fit (cf. “Inbari” in the previous column). I disagree. To me, this is usually intellectual laziness. Instead of investing the mental effort needed to define or at least clarify the concept, one prefers to flee into the warm embrace of vagueness. Such an argument rests on an unnecessary logical leap (though a very characteristic one in postmodern narrative thinking). There are concepts that precede their definitions (targeted definitions), and yet one cannot find a sharp definition for them. In such cases our task is to clarify them, bring examples, persuade that they can be better understood, and also point out what is not included in them (again, see the previous column). Identifying every open concept as if it were empty of content and purely conventional—that is, as if it were arbitrary and merely descriptive—is a mistake. For example, the concept “democracy” is complex and hard to define exhaustively; no wonder disputes arise about it. Does that mean there is no right and wrong? Are we not obligated to clarify and sharpen it even without a sharp definition, and thereby try to indicate what it includes and what it does not? Although in such disputes the call for semantic separation always arises, I think that is wrong. Even here there is right and wrong and an obligation to reason.

This is why in psychiatric diagnostics (where this is almost always the case)[6] and in medicine (in certain cases), one sometimes uses a complex criterion. For example, there can be a disease with 13 symptoms, and the clinician’s guidance is that a person who has at least five or six is diagnosed with the disease. What does this mean? Apparently the disease cannot be defined and characterized univocally, so a complex definition is proposed. Does that imply there is no real disease? Is it correct to infer that each subset of symptoms refers to a different disease, and we are merely labeling them all with the same name? Obviously not. There is a defined disease and sometimes a defined treatment, but its presentations are complex and vary from person to person (depending on circumstances such as age, environment, general health, and more). A complex definition does not imply an empty concept that can be defined however one likes. A good example of such a concept is “poetry,” and my discussion in the series of columns devoted to it (107–113) revolves around defining complex concepts and the proper methodology for such cases.

Back to Judaism: is it a complex concept?

So too with the concept “Judaism.” Even if it is complex, as some respondents claimed, that does not mean there is no point in discussing its features and definitions and using them to examine what belongs to it and what does not. At most, one might seek a complex characterization or definition like the one described above. This is, however, only a theoretical remark, because, as I argued in the previous columns, in my view the concept “Judaism” is relatively simple: Judaism is a principled commitment to halakha. That’s all. All other traits may be true (and perhaps even unique) and may characterize Jews, but they are not essential.

The definition according to which whoever is committed to keeping halakha is Jewish (this is the Sinai covenant) is the definition in the substantive-religious-value sense. But there is, of course, also “Judaism” in the national sense, which is related to the religious sense but not identical to it. In the national sense of the concept there are certainly various complexities (including dependence on race and ethnicity, types of culture, etc.), and I wish to touch on them and on their relation to the definition I proposed for the religious-value sense of “Judaism.” I will do so through another set of questions that appeared in the talkbacks to the previous columns.

Why does this even matter?

People asked me why such a discussion is important at all. What are its implications (what’s the nafka mina)? I answered there that I never claimed the discussion is important. Whoever is not interested—good for him. There need not be any practical implications (a nafka mina for a woman’s kiddushin). Practical ramifications are not a necessary condition for a discussion to be well-defined or important (contrary to the logical positivist view). But now I must add something important about the relation between facts and values.

Discussions about Jewish identity also take place in the academy, in departments that study political science or the study of religions. Those discussions are descriptive: they attempt to characterize the sociological-historical phenomenon called “Judaism.” There, naturally, one deals with facts (sociological facts), and the starting point is descriptive: characterizing the approaches present “on the ground.”[7] By contrast, there are other discussions of Jewish identity that take place also—and perhaps primarily—in social discourse, opinion writing, and various batei midrash. There one does not engage in descriptive research of the sociological phenomenon called “Judaism.” There, the search is for the targeted definition of the concept, not the constitutive one. Hence, in those debates about the essence of Judaism, factual description does not determine the outcome. Even if there are groups that think this or that, as a participant at the table I am not obliged to accept that their definition is correct or even legitimate. Here there is room for positions and for arguments on their merits—not just for descriptions of approaches extant in the field.

The main difference is that public discussions do not deal only on the factual plane; they are no less interested in values. Those debates proceed in an atmosphere that assumes a Jew ought to behave as a Jew. There is a demand upon people to be Jewish, and therefore all are searching what it means to be Jewish. From here you can understand why people are so offended when told they are not Jewish. Seemingly, that is a neutral factual statement. So even if, in your view, I am wrong and you are indeed Jewish, why are you offended? The offense, the angry claims, and the emotions that often accompany these debates (as with Inbari in the previous column) attest to the value-laden dimension. If someone sees me as not Jewish, then he is saying I am not okay. As noted, the subtext is that this search aims to direct my behavior and values. The goal of these discussions is not merely to present the fruits of empirical-sociological-descriptive research into the concept “Judaism,” but to argue how a Jew ought to behave. Those who define a Jew as someone who opposes racism, and those who define a Jew as someone who supports the State of Israel and serves in the army, or as one who studies Torah and is committed to the commandments—all are making value claims: that this is what one ought to do, and whoever does not is “not Jewish.” It is not merely a descriptive statement; there is some demand in the air—a kind of censure.

The clearest example of this was, of course, Rabbi Shach’s “Rabbits and Pigs” speech (see also my remarks here). Without entering the details, I saw with my own eyes how many of the cynics who mocked the debates over who is a Jew and proclaimed openly that the ancient Jewish tradition and heritage interest them as much as the peel of a garlic were deeply offended when Rabbi Shach dared to say they were not Jewish, or dared to ask in what sense they were Jews. It is worth seeing an instructive example from the last few days of Ben Caspit confronting a question posed by Yinon Magal (I mentioned this in footnote 5 of the previous column). Following those remarks there was an awakening of many people to repent (I personally met several such people, and I also read heated debates in the press and heard them in the media). It turns out the debate over who is a Jew and what Judaism is touches many people deeply, and not only as a nafka mina for a woman’s kiddushin.

Between facts and values

The upshot is that the claim “I am Jewish” or “you are not Jewish” is not perceived among us as a mere description. For many of us it carries a value-laden demand. People assume there is value to “Jewish” behavior, and when you speak of “Judaism” you are speaking of values, not only of facts. As I mentioned above, when there is a dispute, both sides share some common ground. In this case, both sides agree that Judaism is a set of values and not only a description; the dispute is about what that set is. Hence, in the two previous columns my remarks dealt with Judaism in the value sense rather than with factual descriptions of it.

One could feign innocence and claim that the mere continuity of Jewish heritage is itself the value at issue. That is, perhaps Judaism really is not a set of values but a fact (either you are Jewish or you are not), and yet people see value and obligation in continuing the heritage by virtue of being members of this people. A Jew must behave as a Jew—not necessarily because of the lofty value-content of the concept “Judaism,” but because of his duty to continue the heritage of his ancestors (and therefore a Belgian or a Saudi should likewise continue the heritage of their ancestors). According to this proposal, perhaps there is indeed no value definition of the concept “Judaism,” and still it is clear why the debate over who is a Jew carries a value charge.

But that may describe the approach of some participants, and in my opinion it is a negligible minority. The fact is that people search in Jewish heritage for the “right” values (in their eyes). They are not satisfied with empty repetition of our ancestors’ rituals. There may be a difference here between secular Jewish identity (which has completely abandoned rituals) and Reform Jewish identity, which has not abandoned them (indeed, it left only them, alongside a set of liberal-universal values; see in the previous column the continued discussion of “Judaism according to Buchdahl”). But discussions of secular Jewish identity (the overwhelming majority of what takes place in Israel, at least) certainly purport to deal with values, not rituals.[8] Beyond the factual claim that for most people this is not the entire meaning of “Judaism” and its value charge, I claim that, on the merits, this conception is also unreasonable. Why should the fact that I was born Jewish obligate me to behave like Abraham our father? And if Martin Luther (or Martin Luther King) seems more attractive to me, why should I not follow his path? Is it because I was born to a certain people that I must behave in a certain way? This is, to me, an unreasonable value conception on its own terms; and in any case, it is not the prevalent one.

The conclusion is that the concept “Judaism” is value-laden—that is, Judaism is first and foremost a set of values. Beyond and prior to the descriptive discussion of what “Judaism” is, we must conduct the essential discussion about it. That is what I did in the previous columns. But of course Judaism is also a nation, and as such it certainly has factual-descriptive dimensions, not only value-laden ones. Here there is room to ask who is a Jew in the descriptive sense. For that question it is very relevant to look at Jews and Jewish groups as they are, and not only at essential questions (what ought to be done and why). This brings us to Judaism as religion and as nation, and to the relation between the two.

Judaism as religion and as nation

Up to now I have dealt with Judaism as a religion. I assumed it involves some value content, and concluded that this content is nothing other than commitment to halakha. All other values are, at most, ornaments and not part of the core of the concept “Judaism.” But Judaism as a nation is a far more complex and open concept, and here the definitions are much less sharp. There is a connection between Judaism as religion and Judaism as nation, but that connection is not so sharp and clear.

The root of the matter is that the very concept of nation is exceedingly elusive. Not for nothing has it been under heavy assault in recent generations, with many seeing it as a fiction. The Marxists among us claim it is a concept created to advance domination and the exercise of power against other “peoples.” I dealt with this at length in my article on Jewish identity, whose title included the famous line from the poet Amir Gilboa’s “A Poem in the Morning, in the Morning”: “A man suddenly rises in the morning, feels he is a people, and begins to walk.” There I mentioned Shlomo Sand’s book Who Invented the Jewish People? (I cannot help noting again that it is an insult to the intelligence), which argues that the definition of the Jewish nation is very complex, and from this concludes that it is empty: there is no such people. Beyond the foolish conclusion, the underlying intellectual foundation is indeed worthy of discussion. The concept of a nation and its definition are among the most elusive topics in human sociology. Every nation is characterized by many features, and many individuals who compose it do not possess them all. The definition of a nation includes ethnic, cultural, religious, and other components, in different mixes from people to people. The Jewish people is no exception. The claims that there are people who are not members of the Jewish religion but belong to the Jewish nation are, in my view, quite compelling. The Jewish nation is a historical phenomenon, and as such it should be discussed with the tools of sociological-historical research. One should look at those who define themselves as Jews and see what the features of their Jewishness are, and from that distill how this people sees itself. Here—and only here—there is room for all the claims I mentioned above: the diversity of Jewish conceptions and cultures, and the “who made you king to decide” type of argument. In the sociological-factual context, that is, in the discussion of the Jewish nation, I am prepared to accept them. Here a flexible and complex definition of the diagnostic type described above is also appropriate.

Even so, as I wrote above regarding open and complex concepts, we are not exempt here from attempting to offer a definition or features that will clarify the concept. Quite a few intellectually lazy people try to dispose of the issue with circular definitions, such as: a Jew is anyone who defines himself as a Jew. That is, of course, nonsense that says nothing beyond the fact that defining Judaism is a complex task. A definition of a concept should clarify it using other concepts already known to us. A definition cannot make use of the very concept being defined.[9]

It is commonly thought that the Jewish nation is defined on the basis of the Jewish religion. From time immemorial, conversion—a religious act—has also constituted entry into the Jewish nation. Even the secular State of Israel (and many of its secular citizens, contrary to what our universalists try to sell us) recognizes this. Traditionally, the Jewish ethnos was created by the Jewish religion. Whoever joined the latter joined the nation as well. But on the national plane, as distinct from the religious one, there is indeed room to argue that the definition can change. If the Jewish people—once defined on the basis of religion—now chooses to define itself differently, that would be the relevant definition of the Jewish nation. Again, I am not here making a constitutive claim that the concept of nation is arbitrary and everyone defines it as they wish. No. Even if I were a dyed-in-the-wool fascist, even if I believed in the spirit of the nation and its metaphysical-ontic existence, I would still argue that a nation can choose for itself a culture entirely different from that of its forebears and yet remain the same nation. Questions of values and essential content play a lesser role on the national field; they belong to the religious-value plane.

The claim of many Jews today that the definition of the Jewish nation in recent generations has separated from the definition of the Jewish religion seems to me entirely legitimate (though, in my estimation, a large majority of the Jewish public still does not agree). Hence, one can define entry into the Jewish nation (and certainly into the State of Israel, and perhaps into the Israeli nation?) not on the basis of entry into the Jewish religion. Today there are quite a few citizens of the State of Israel who, nationally and culturally, are Jewish in every respect—no different from a typical secular Jew—yet are not part of the Jewish religion (gentiles who did not convert). They speak the Jewish-Hebrew language and slang, eat Jewish foods, consume Jewish culture (and perhaps also study Jewish sources in pluralistic batei midrash), celebrate the holidays in one form or another, and, more generally, there is no cultural difference between them and a secular Israeli Jew. In my view it is very hard to argue that they do not belong to the Jewish nation, even though it is clear that they do not belong to the Jewish religion (because they are not obligated in halakha—unlike a secular Jew, who is obligated). In the accepted definitions of nationhood around the world, they certainly form part of the Jewish nation. Only those who insist on grounding the nation exclusively in religion (as was once the case) do not accept this. But even they will have to admit that such a definition is unique and does not match the accepted notion of nationality. But that is already a dispute that is almost entirely semantic.

Incidentally, a fascinating example of such complexity is Cardinal Jean-Marie Lustiger. He was born Jewish and at age 14 converted to Christianity. He then climbed the Catholic hierarchy until he became the highly influential and popular archbishop of Paris—one of the most important positions in the Church in France and in the Catholic world. Lustiger defined himself as Jewish in the ethnic-national sense, spoke Hebrew and Yiddish, and never disavowed his Jewish origins. Moreover, after his death his Jewish cousin recited Kaddish at his grave and said this was at Lustiger’s own request. But his religion, of course, was Catholic (a Jew of the religion of Jesus). Furthermore, he claimed that this was the fulfillment of his Judaism (that is, he claimed to be Jewish also in the religious sense, not only the ethnic-national one). Ironically, from what I wrote above it follows that his definition of Judaism (as committed to the Christian religion) holds water, even though I disagree with it—certainly more than those who try to argue for a purely secular or purely ritual Judaism. Of course, on the national plane it is difficult to accept his words, whereas the secular claim (regarding belonging to the Jewish nation) is certainly plausible.

Summary

Returning to our discussion: the claims that the concept “Judaism” is complex, that there are different conceptions of it, and that I have no monopoly, etc., are apparently dealing with Judaism as nation and culture, not with Judaism as religion and value framework. On the religious-value plane the picture is rather simple: Judaism means commitment to halakha.

In the next column I will turn to Ehud Luz’s book (see the beginning of the column before last), which attempts nevertheless to connect the national and religious planes and to create a secular Judaism that would be a continuation of the Judaism of previous generations. He ties those two planes together, and we now have the tools to examine his claims critically.

[1] Of course, one can offer clever arguments, such as: if someone says that in his view halakha obligates standing on one foot every even-numbered day, or going to the beach every morning, would that also be a definition of Judaism? My answer is twofold:

1. I am not dealing with sophistries. No one actually believes such things. By contrast, there are very many who sincerely believe, like Buchdahl and her like-minded colleagues, that Judaism is defined on the basis of values without halakha. Do not forget that my claim is also directed at many Orthodox and traditionalists who think that Judaism is defined on the basis of values in addition to halakha. As noted, I disagree with both of these positions, and they are indeed widespread (in my estimation this is the view of the overwhelming majority of the Jewish public in all its shades).
2. If there is someone who truly and sincerely believes an interpretation according to which the commands we received at Sinai imply an obligation to stand on one foot or go to the beach (not as a mere clever quip, but from an actual interpretation of our sources and of that thesis in general), then yes—this too would be a definition of Judaism that holds water. I, of course, would not agree with it, but it would still fall within the framework I have described here.

[2] For a similar distinction between what is wrong and what is illegitimate, see my article on tolerance.

[3] The claim that one must adopt the majority view can come from two different directions: (a) the majority is an indication of proximity to truth (the majority is right, as in a court), as in columns 69, 79, and many more; (b) in column 66 I discussed situations where the majority decides (even if it is not right, as in a democratic majority). Questions of the first sort deal with facts and truth, and there the majority has no substantive standing (unless one believes the majority view is closer to truth). Questions of the second sort are constitutive: the majority is “right” by definition (because it decides).

[4] There is a strange tendency in today’s discourse (a sad influence of postmodernism) to brand anyone who presents a position as necessarily paternalistic (“who made him king,” “he has no monopoly,” “he has no authority to disqualify others,” etc.). All these claims are based on mere confusion—or testify that the speaker has run out of substantive arguments.

[5] On the practical plane I agree with him entirely. Since, in my view, religion and state must be separated, I definitely support having the law recognize a civil “conversion” that contains Jewish components, instead of requiring a religious conversion. I just am not prepared to see it as a substitute for halakhic conversion, and such a “convert” is not Jewish in my eyes.

[6] See, for example, here on diagnosing clinical depression, and many other places.

[7] And by their lights it is also justified to view this search as a pursuit of a constitutive, descriptive definition. From the researcher’s standpoint it is very reasonable to take what people regard as Judaism and assume that that is Judaism, and from there to offer a definition. See, for example, here and elsewhere on the site.

[8] Even rituals such as the offering of first fruits on a kibbutz were not perceived there as exhausting their Jewish identity, but as one expression of it.

[9] One criterion for a good definition—and why a circular definition is not good—is this: if we take the definition and change the word that names the concept being defined, nothing in our understanding of the concept should change. For example: a triangle is a shape with three sides, each pair of which meets at a common vertex. If I call that triangle X, nothing changes. I thoroughly understand the concept, and only afterwards will I be told that the Hebrew word for it is “meshulash” (triangle). So too, the definition of a Jew should be intelligible even if we call a Jew “X.” Now consider the definition: a Jew is one who defines himself as a Jew. Replace “Jew” with “X,” and we get: X is one who defines himself as X. Does that give you any understanding of the concept “Jew”? See here, section C.