The Haredi Demonstration and the Elections to the Rabbinate
Contents of the Article
The Ultra-Orthodox Demonstration and the Chief Rabbinate Elections
The real struggle between the sectors does not run along the Zionist versus non-Zionist axis, but along the axis of liberalism and modernity versus conservatism, and in fact around the question of the attitude toward Jewish law and toward the Torah more generally.
The ultra-Orthodox public had the good sense to unite in the face of the threat of losing the Chief Rabbinate… By contrast, the religious-Zionist public, which displayed division and quarreling, was left empty-handed (headline in the diary column, Makor Rishon, 26.7.2013).
I will begin with three introductory remarks, because this is not a standard article, certainly not in this distinguished supplement. First, although a considerable part of what will be said here touches on contemporary politics, heaven spare us, the purpose of the article is to draw attention to a point of very great ethical and spiritual significance. Please read the remarks in that context. Second, what I say about the outlooks of the various rabbis does not stem from personal acquaintance with them, and errors are therefore possible. Third, some of what follows will be polemical and rather sharp, but at root it is not written as a critique of any particular position, even though there is criticism here and it is by no means concealed, but as an attempt to clarify an important point that is apparently hidden from many of us.
Norms as a Parameter in Jewish Law
In the wake of this week’s mass demonstration against conscription, thoughts returned to me that had accompanied me during the race for the Chief Rabbinate. I am not saying that the demonstration is a necessary consequence of the results of those recent elections to the Rabbinate, or of religious Zionism’s failure in them. I wish to say something entirely different here: there is an aspect of this demonstration that reflects the fundamental error in understanding what happened in those elections.
It is illuminating to begin with the summary judgments that were so typical of those elections, such as the one quoted at the top of this page. Nothing could better express the depth of the fixation in which we all are trapped, both in those elections and in our lives and public discourse more generally. The public discussion following the elections to the Chief Rabbinate, among both those who rejoiced at the result and those who lamented it, expressed a consensus as though what had occurred was a failure of religious Zionism against ultra-Orthodoxy. Throughout, the struggle was presented as a struggle over the Zionist character of the Chief Rabbinate.
In addition, the prevailing view is that this failure was the result of the split among the candidates of religious Zionism, as opposed to ultra-Orthodox unity. Both of these claims are mistaken. To the best of my judgment, they also express a very deep misunderstanding in reading the map of forces. This is an error that accompanies us in many other contexts as well, and it prevents us from understanding who is truly opposing whom at the spiritual level. It seems to me that most of the public, including some of those who took part in the struggle and the controversy surrounding it, do not really understand what it was, and is, actually about.
Let me say at the outset that there were in fact no genuinely ultra-Orthodox candidates in these elections, just as there were not in previous ones. Ultra-Orthodox society rejects the Chief Rabbinate and does not participate directly in its elections, that is, it does not put forward candidates of its own, though it of course tries to influence matters in various ways. For example, the three Ashkenazi candidates who stood for election were Zionist rabbis in every practical sense I can think of. As far as I know, all of them recite Hallel on Independence Day, the ultimate expression of Zionism in religious society; all are partners in building the state and society and want them to succeed; all are in good contact with broad segments of the public from every shade of opinion; and it seems to me that this time all of them were good and worthy people as well. The same is true of the Sephardi candidates.
Thus, contrary to what we are constantly being fed, the ultra-Orthodox-Zionist axis was not relevant to those elections, and as I shall argue below, it is in fact hardly relevant anymore to our lives in general. So what was relevant? What was the struggle about? To attribute everything to personal interest, to each candidate’s desire to be elected, is too easy and not accurate. There was one difference, and in my view it was around this difference that the main struggle revolved: the question of liberalism and modernity versus conservatism, and in fact the question of the attitude toward Jewish law and toward the Torah as a whole.
A clear expression of this is the debate over how far it is possible and proper to make changes in the way the Rabbinate and the rabbinical courts operate, and to what extent contemporary norms and the social environment are parameters that should be taken into account when issuing rulings in Jewish law. Do we adopt what I once called “first-order decision-making,” or do we engage only in “second-order decision-making” — reliance on precedents, with little willingness to take changes in reality into account? The status of women and non-Jews, the attitude toward literature and art, and so on, are additional expressions of the question of conservatism of which I am speaking here.
On the Same Side
Once one understands that the struggle over the Chief Rabbinate was conducted along this axis, and not along the Zionist-ultra-Orthodox axis, that is, the attitude toward the state, one immediately sees that the two sides of the barricade are not ultra-Orthodox versus religious Zionists. There are Zionist rabbis who are conservative in their approach to Jewish law and not liberal at all. We hear quite a few rulings by Zionist rabbis regarding the place of women, or the status of the non-Jew, among them the candidate for Sephardi Chief Rabbi who called for apartments not to be rented to non-Jews; and on the other hand, there are also ultra-Orthodox rabbis who incline more toward liberalism and are willing to make changes. But that is not relevant, because, as noted, the ultra-Orthodox are not really on this field.
In this sense, Rabbi David Lau, the “ultra-Orthodox” candidate, and Rabbi Yaakov Shapira, head of Mercaz HaRav Yeshiva, stand on the same side. It seems to me that both are to a large extent committed to the ultra-Orthodox rabbinic leadership; neither advocates liberalism or flexibility in Jewish law; and, so far as I know, both issue rulings of the second-order type rather than the first-order type. Opposed to them stands Rabbi David Stav, who in my opinion is no great revolutionary, and that is how he describes himself as well, but who nonetheless seems willing to consider necessary adaptations, at least of procedures and standards and perhaps also of various laws, to the reality of our time, and at times, it seems, even contrary to the views of the conservative rabbinic authorities and rabbis. It is no secret that there were efforts by Zionist rabbis whose purpose was to prevent Rabbi Stav from being elected to the position.
Ultra-Orthodox Ingratitude
Let us now shift our gaze to the recent demonstration. I cannot elaborate here, but every sensible person understands that this demonstration expressed moral corruption, lack of gratitude, cynical manipulation, and many other defects that I will not detail here. But what matters to me here is not the moral and Torah-based condemnation of this demonstration, but its description as a distilled expression of the ultra-Orthodox approach at its worst.
The demonstration arose because of the demand to impose criminal sanctions on those evading conscription. Now consider this: if one truly agrees to the very idea of imposing quotas but objects to imposing sanctions on anyone who exceeds them, what does that mean? It means that those quotas will in fact be a dead letter. That there will be a disgraceful inequality before the law, according to which those in black coats will be permitted to violate the law without punishment merely by virtue of their black attire. The law will set a conscription quota, but it will be a quota not intended to be implemented. It is important to understand that this is the principal declared demand of this demonstration — pardon me, this prayer assembly and public sanctification of God’s name. There is ultra-Orthodox agreement that a law be enacted and quotas set, provided only that the law be a dead letter. That is the essence of the ultra-Orthodox demand in this demonstration.
The quota of 1,800 students out of a yearly cohort of 7,000, the law’s target in its current form, is by all accounts a handsome and respectable quota. For the sake of everyone’s peace of mind, I will leave aside the absurd term “geniuses.” There are not that many ultra-Orthodox students in each cohort who are truly destined to grow into long-term Torah scholars, and I say this from fairly good acquaintance with the ultra-Orthodox Torah world: I was there. But, as noted, the dispute is not over the quota but over the sanctions. So if this is a reasonable and agreed quota, how can one demand that no sanctions be imposed on those who violate the law and do not enlist? Is there a sincere intention here to reach agreement? Certainly not. This is simply an attempt to pull the wool over people’s eyes, characteristic of a minority that feels persecuted and therefore permits itself methods of deception of this sort.
Ultra-Orthodox rhetoric proclaims in the public square that this is a time of religious persecution and one must be killed rather than transgress, a persecution of the Torah world by the wicked Bennett and Lapid. Bennett is Haman the wicked, as everyone knows. As Amnon Levy says at the opening of his book on the ultra-Orthodox, in ultra-Orthodox discourse there is no event that is not a Holocaust. What is not a Holocaust simply does not happen. Every event is a decree of religious persecution against the Torah world, requiring the rending of garments and hysterical cries of self-sacrifice. And still, this shocking discourse ought to make one think.
Ingratitude toward the almost inconceivable consideration and tolerance shown by the general public to the ultra-Orthodox world that has shirked the burden for many years is a distinctly ultra-Orthodox trait. The ultra-Orthodox public is sustained by the money of the broader public, makes use of medicine, security, social and psychological assistance, and enjoys subsidies for education and vocational training, usually in very makeshift forms. The service that is already being performed almost brings no benefit, costs a great deal of money, and requires no simple adjustments in the army. In return for all this and more, the ultra-Orthodox bestow on Israeli society their gratitude in the form of insults, abuse, and derogatory epithets.
Poor “Children Taken Captive”
And I have not even mentioned that this pure motive also justifies demanding that devotees of Torah in all purity extend the military service of hesder yeshiva students at the expense of their Torah study — equal sharing of the burden, remember? All, of course, for the exaltation of the Torah. Nor have I yet mentioned the article, one of many, on the B’Hadrei Haredim website about the words of the Vizhnitz Rebbe, and this was his golden formulation:
I recently heard that a party has arisen that calls itself “The Jewish Home.” I do not know why they chose this name if their entire purpose is against the Jews; it is a home that is not Jewish. God save us, they are fighting everything holy — the Torah, the Sabbath, and everything else. They are, poor things, children taken captive at the very harshest level.
And immediately afterward he adds the following pearls:
One must know that all the people who, because of circumstances, try to speak softly with them and give up a little here and a little there — we tell them clearly: absolutely nothing. My father, the author of Yeshuot Moshe, of blessed memory, used to say that compromises exist only in monetary law and not in the fundamentals of religion: he will neither kneel nor bow.
A veritable Ohev Yisrael of Apta. An article appearing literally one line below the previous one on the same website is adorned with the following headline referring to Rabbi Shai Piron: “Educating for hatred: ‘Israel is less Jewish because of the ultra-Orthodox.’” Well, at least we have found who is educating for hatred here. But do not worry — apparently no one there on the site’s editorial staff even blinked at the sight of this absurdity, again, just one example among very many. And I am not even mentioning the headline that explained that a certain religious-Zionist rabbi was “separating himself from the community,” yes, in those very words, because he called on people not to take part in the demonstration.
But my purpose in all this is not to explain my opinion about this demonstration and everything surrounding it. My purpose bears directly on our subject. It is important to understand that this belligerence, and the attitude underlying it, are an unmistakable expression of the ultra-Orthodox approach. Not necessarily ultra-Orthodoxy in the sense of opposition to the state, but ultra-Orthodoxy in the sense of a distorted relation to the Torah. Ultra-Orthodoxy in the sense of grandiosity and hysteria as the only mode of discourse. An ultra-Orthodox approach in the sense of a complete failure to listen to the other. This is ultra-Orthodoxy in the sense of complete disregard for the broader society, of seeing only themselves and absolutely no one else; ultra-Orthodoxy in the sense of sacrificing the ultra-Orthodox collective, which suffers from so many maladies, for the sake of the few who can grow over years through Torah study. This is, in essence, the core of the ultra-Orthodox approach, for better and chiefly for worse. One may dispute all this, but there is no doubt that this is a distinctly ultra-Orthodox approach.
Zionist Rabbis at the Demonstration
Why is it important for me to describe the ultra-Orthodox dimension of this conduct? Because, to my surprise, I read in the press that religious-Zionist rabbis called on people to join this demonstration, and indeed did so themselves. Among those issuing the call were Rabbi Yaakov Shapira and Rabbi Shmuel Eliyahu, both, as noted, candidates on behalf of religious Zionism for the Chief Rabbinate.
What are the candidates of religious Zionism and their students doing at a demonstration that is nothing but pure ultra-Orthodoxy? What is shared by these rabbis and the demonstrators, among whom was Rabbi David Lau? I would like to hope that these rabbis, as well as Rabbi Lau, did not join in the expressions of hatred and the belligerent tone, nor in the other blatant distortions, but the fact remains that they found themselves belonging to this strictly ultra-Orthodox framework. Let us remember: these are the rabbis whose non-election as chief rabbis on behalf of religious Zionism was mourned by the religious-Zionist camp. It seems to me that this phenomenon sharply highlights their ultra-Orthodox approach, not necessarily in the anti-Zionist sense but in the conservative sense, and especially their attitude toward the structure of state, society, and Torah.
Now I ask: is this not precisely what ought to define the relevant parameters for someone serving as Chief Rabbi on behalf of religious Zionism? Is all this not more important than reciting Hallel on Independence Day? For at a simple glance one can already see that between them and their ultra-Orthodox counterparts there is nothing but a few chapters of Psalms once a year, on 5 Iyyar. Nothing more. Ironically, even that difference does not really exist. As noted, Rabbi David Lau, the “ultra-Orthodox” candidate, also apparently recites Hallel on Independence Day, though that is not really important, and if so he too is Zionist for our purposes. As for Rabbi Yitzhak Yosef’s position, I do not know, though his late father apparently did recite Hallel, at least during certain periods.
So what exactly was supposed to be the difference between the approaches of Rabbi Yaakov Shapira and Rabbi Shmuel Eliyahu, on the one hand, and those of Rabbi Yitzhak Yosef and Rabbi David Lau, on the other, had they served at the head of the Chief Rabbinate? Can anyone point to anything that would have been done differently there if Rabbi Shapira or Rabbi Eliyahu had been there? In my estimation the answer is clear: almost nothing. As an aside, I will add that it seems to me Rabbi David Lau has, since his election, displayed good conduct, with a tendency toward improving the way the Rabbinate functions. Certainly no less than what would have been expected from any other Zionist candidate. With my dim eyes, I do not really manage to discern any substantive difference between him and the “Zionist” rabbis who ran against him.
It is important for me to clarify that I do not come here to criticize these rabbis for their approaches to Jewish law, and not even for their decision to cooperate with the ultra-Orthodox demonstration. As noted, I believe they were not partners to its distorted dimensions. Their approach is legitimate, although I do not agree with it, but it is very important to open our eyes to the deeper currents. The time has come for all of us to understand the relevant axis around which the discussion ought to be conducted. It is certainly not the ultra-Orthodox-Zionist axis, but rather the ultra-Orthodox versus liberal-modern axis.
Three Groups
The meaning of this analysis is that in our arena there are three groups, not two: ultra-Orthodox of various kinds, conservative religious Zionists, sometimes called “national ultra-Orthodox,” and the modern camp. The relevant watershed on nearly all the issues currently on the agenda, apart from the unimportant question of Hallel on Independence Day, runs not between Zionists and the ultra-Orthodox but between conservatives and modernists. This is true not only in the elections to the Chief Rabbinate but in most other public controversies as well.
And indeed, in the elections to the Chief Rabbinate, the modern camp, not Zionism, suffered a stinging defeat, but that defeat was certainly not the result of a split or of one conjuncture or another. It was the result of the real situation on the ground: the modern camp is a small minority within the rabbinic establishment, especially among the leadership of that establishment. Ironically, the split in the Rabbinate elections was actually between the conservative candidates, for example between Rabbi Lau and Rabbi Shapira, and even that did not prevent Rabbi Lau from winning those elections, simply because he rested on a real and very large majority, and of course also on the power of representatives of the secular public who cooperate with the conservative camp and afterward complain about the conservative manner in which the Chief Rabbinate is conducted. This was entirely predictable, not the result of any split whatsoever.
Incidentally, during the race the Jewish Home members of Knesset read the map correctly when they called on Rabbi Shapira not to withdraw his candidacy, yes, you read that correctly, in order to assist Rabbi Stav. They understood that he was taking votes away from Rabbi Lau, not from Rabbi Stav. And despite this, after the elections they themselves took part in the detached discourse that attributes the matter to the split and to the Zionist-ultra-Orthodox struggle. There is a blatant and systematic error here in reading the map, but it seems to me there is also an element of deliberate misdirection. The conservative group has an interest in diverting the discussion to the Zionist-ultra-Orthodox plane and concealing its other, more relevant dimensions, so as to portray the more modern camp as the one that prevented religious Zionism and the general public from winning the elections.
The conclusion that follows from these remarks is that the time has come to change religious political discourse from the ground up. It seems that we are still arguing over whether to establish a state or not, or whether to recite chapters of Psalms on Independence Day, as though we were living at the beginning of the previous century. Have we not noticed that the state has already existed for nearly seventy years? Instead of the Zionist-ultra-Orthodox fixation, we must update the discourse and our points of view. The question truly on the table is what kind of Jewish law we want. Do we want first-order decision-making, in the sense I defined in an earlier article in this supplement, or must we remain with a Rabbinate that operates at the second order, according to precedents whose relevance is doubtful and under the guidance of the ultra-Orthodox-conservative rabbinic leadership? That is the real and important question.
Zionism, as well as the color of the skullcap or the clothes, or the question of Hallel, are no longer relevant in our world. The time has come for spiritual coalitions other than those that presently exist. There is indeed a surprising inertia to the existing ideological lines, but it seems to me the time has come to rid ourselves of it and to update the discourse and the subjects of debate. The first step is at least to understand the map and read it correctly.
Published in Musaf Shabbat, Makor Rishon, 5 Adar II 5774, 7.3.2014