Interview in Makor Rishon on the Occasion of the Publication of the Trilogy
With God’s help
A few brief remarks on the interview with Yair Sheleg
(The ‘Shabbat’ supplement, 3.5.2020)
The interview was long and comprehensive, and it dealt with my views rather than with my personality or with a description of events. Therefore, the points that arose in it concerned ideas and arguments, some of them complex and controversial. For this reason, despite the limitations of the newspaper medium, precision is important. Of course, discussing such ideas requires a more detailed presentation, for which there was no room there (that is what is done in my trilogy). In general, the interview presents my views well, and I thank Yair Sheleg for his work. Even so, because of the sensitivities involved, it is important to me to set a few things straight.
I should note that I do not have the recording, and I do not always remember exactly what I said, but I do know what I think. So there is no criticism of Yair in my words, only necessary clarifications. In any case, I did not say anything I regret, or regret having said. What I write here is not a retraction and certainly not an apology. These are clarifications of several points that were presented not entirely accurately (whether in things I said or in the writing and editing, but that is not important). All of these matters can be checked in several places where I have already presented them (mainly on my website and in the trilogy).
Here are some of the main points:
- A minor point. I do not teach Kant at the Institute for Advanced Torah Studies (though I mention him from time to time). But indeed, in my view, his books are more interesting and more relevant to people of our generation than The Guide of the Perplexed and the like.
- For some reason, my wife’s part in all the personal and intellectual processes hardly appears in the interview. It is very important to me to say that we made all the decisions together: educating the children, moving house, and our connections with different populations. We went through almost all the processes described in the interview together, and even my coming to Bnei Brak itself (which I regard as a great blessing) happened because of her (and not because I ‘fell for’ Bnei Brak at an ‘Arachim’ seminar). Not to mention her firm-handed management of the home and family, and of the trilogy sales, without which none of this would have been possible. I cannot imagine any of it happening without her.
- The description of a ‘theological’ argument (which formulates premises ‘backward’ in order to arrive at a given conclusion) reflects one of my modes of argument. I do not necessarily sanctify assuming the conclusion, but neither do I necessarily rule it out. From the description, it sounds as though I always cling to the conclusions I want (and adapt the premises to them). That is simply not true. If that were so, changes in my views could never have taken place. This is a logical methodology of argument (originating in Kant’s philosophy) that I define clearly in the fourth conversation of my book The First Being. At first glance it resembles pragmatism (which I find utterly repellent), but my entire purpose there is to show that it is essentially different from it. Pragmatism lacks intellectual integrity, whereas this methodology, which I call ‘theological argument,’ most certainly does not.
- There is indeed no Hasidism in my religious world, but there is Kabbalah. I have engaged with it quite a bit, and I also make use of it from time to time.
- It is impossible that I said there is an identity between pantheism and deism (belief in a philosophical God). I absolutely do not think so. What I said is that there is an identity between pantheism and atheism (this is one of my criticisms of Hasidism). On the contrary, in my view deism (to which the first four conversations of my book The First Being are devoted) is the first stage on the way to religious, that is, theistic, faith.
- In the interview I probably said that the choice דווקא of the people of Israel cannot be justified by a priori philosophy (and I also do not think we possess some special genetic or spiritual quality). But I certainly do not think I said that it is irrational. I assume that God acts rationally. And in my view as well, it certainly makes sense to choose a particular people to lead some process in the world. I see nothing absurd in that. Even if I would not have said this on the basis of my own reasoning, once this was told to us in revelation, there is no impediment to accepting it. But I do indeed think that exclusive discourse (‘we are right and everyone else is wrong and invalid/heretical’) is mainly for internal purposes.
- I did not say that the Catholic Stefan has no reason to believe in Judaism more than in Catholicism, but rather that it is unlikely that a claim will be made against him if he does not believe in Judaism. A reasonable person who had been born in Stefan’s village (including me) would probably have remained Catholic, and it is a principle accepted among us that God does not come with unreasonable demands upon His creatures (Avodah Zarah 3a). But in my view, Judaism as structured by Jewish law is indeed more coherent and more plausible than Catholicism.
- Contrary to what was written in the interview, I observe the commandments because of the command, and only because of it. More than that: this is the central principle of my metalegal doctrine. What I probably said in the interview is that the validity of the interpretation of the sages throughout the generations (the details of the laws) is not because it comes from a command at Sinai, but because it is the interpretation that was accepted. In other words: commitment to a particular legal detail does not require authenticity (that is, that its source be at Sinai, or even that God actually intended it. In many cases, in my estimation, that is not the case).
- As a complement to the previous point: I do not observe the commandments because of a desire to be faithful to tradition. I have no such desire at all. In my view tradition confers validity on nothing, and personally I also have no fondness for it and not much trust in it. I am faithful to the tradition of Jewish law because I think that this is what God expects of us, that is, because of the command. When He gave us the Torah, He left a great deal of room for interpretation, and even authorized the sages to provide it (‘do not deviate,’ Deut. 17:11). Therefore I am bound by their interpretation (that of the sages/the authorized institutions, not of everyone), even though they are not necessarily correct. What was created by other sages (post-Talmudic ones) is, for me, at most a source of inspiration and not a source of authority. Finally, what the people practice is no more than custom, and its status is based on the legal obligation to adhere to customs (I would never have thought to do so without the legal obligation). Therefore, at the root of the validity of all the categories of Jewish law stands the command and not tradition (tradition merely transmits the command to us. It has no normative status of its own).
In this context I would note that, in my view, traditionalism (observing the commandments out of loyalty to tradition) is valueless. Traditionalists can be divided into two types: a. A person who believes in God and in the command, but observes only what suits him (or what connects him to his forefathers, or what he feels sentimental about). A traditionalist of this sort is, in my view, a greater offender than an atheist, because he believes and does not observe. b. A person who observes merely in order to identify, without believing (in God and in the command from Sinai). A ‘traditionalist’ of this type is simply an ordinary atheist (with religious folklore, like the first-fruits ceremonies in secular kibbutzim).
- With regard to homosexuality, I proposed a possible interpretive path (namely, that what is forbidden is only surrender to desire, not a person for whom this is his nature). This is only a possible proposal, and I do not rule in practice in accordance with it, since I am not sure it is correct (though I do not dismiss it). The first approach presented in the interview (that this was forbidden as a practice of idol worshipers) does not seem plausible to me at all. I do not think I said that (perhaps I mentioned that there are those who proposed it).
- I did not say that the Haredi leadership is senile, and I do not think so either. I certainly do think that it is detached from reality and manipulated by various operatives. As best I remember, in the interview I noted that there were those (both online and in the comments on my website, בעקבות the column I published on the matter) who tried to defend the Haredim by claiming that this was a handful of senile people who no longer really understood what was happening. And to that I said that this was not a relevant defense, since even if it were true (and, as stated, I do not think so), the criticism would merely be shifted to the society that accepts such leadership upon itself.
- I did not say that they want to throw me out of the institute at Bar-Ilan, but that there are some who would be happy if I were not there. As far as I know, there are no intrigues and failed struggles there, but rather differing views among different people. Nor is this necessarily a statement about the administration. Incidentally, in my view all of this is entirely legitimate.
- Regarding the fact that I have tenure in my university position: this sounds like a provocative statement, but it is not. I said it only in order to make clear that I do not deserve such great admiration for presenting my radical positions, as might perhaps be inferred. The risk I take upon myself is not so great, because I have tenure. That is all.
Eliezer Jesselson’s response to the interview (published in the newspaper)
Bringing an End to the Torah of God
I will begin with a personal note. I serve as chairman of the public governing board of MAGAL—the Ludwig and Erica Jesselson Institute for Advanced Torah Studies at Bar-Ilan University. Rabbi Michael (Miki) Abraham is one of the veteran teachers in MAGAL’s advanced study hall. Rabbi Abraham’s classes at the institute focus on teaching Talmud, and they do not include the teaching of his distinctive and provocative philosophy, which certainly does not represent the approach of most members of MAGAL’s teaching staff. My response below likewise represents only my own position, and should not be seen as an official position of MAGAL. MAGAL operates within the university, and freedom of opinion is granted to all members of the MAGAL staff.
I read the interview with Rabbi Miki carefully, and I became convinced of the justice of his own statement that there is in it ‘a great deal of love for provocation.’ For without this love of his, it is difficult to understand him fully, though he tries to present his view as a systematic and complete doctrine.
Let us begin with the philosophical examination. In my view, every religious mode of conduct, and every philosophical system that tries to ground such conduct, ultimately returns to what Rabbi Soloveitchik called ‘the wondrous paradox.’ The wondrous paradox is the moment when even the greatest philosopher is forced to base his religious approach on axioms, or, in more religious language, on prior beliefs. Any attempt to argue that there exists a pure logical approach capable of justifying our religious commitment is nothing more than verbal laundering and a search for suitable linguistic formulations. Rabbi Miki’s claim that there is no morality that is not divine is axiomatic to exactly the same extent that he assumes that rational thought proves the existence of God. He makes his claims because he believes them, exactly as he believes that ‘there is a good probability that the revelation at Mount Sinai did indeed occur.’
And from here to his approach to Jewish law. Jewish law is entrusted to the sages. The development of Jewish law, as well as the resolution of possible conflicts between it and moral demands, lies in the hands of the sages of Israel. When they come to resolve problems that arise from time to time, they must decide how far they are obligated to respond to the rulings of their predecessors, and how far they are permitted to reveal new facets in the law. This is the principal dilemma facing the decisors who have arisen to serve the Jewish community throughout the generations. The problem is intensified further, because the ‘success’ of the decisors in fulfilling their mission requires acceptance of their words by the public as a whole, in the sense of ‘Go out and see what the people do’ (Berakhot 45a). Thus there comes into being before our eyes a complex and delicate system of legal development, which requires the public that observes Jewish law to decide which decisors to heed and from which to distance itself. It is a historical fact that only some legal decisors were accepted as binding, while many others were rejected.
Rabbi Miki ignores all this. In his view, human morality is binding exactly like Jewish law, and the decisors of the generation must reconcile these two systems. More than that: in a case of conflict between the two, human morality will decide. If the Torah forbade lying with a male (Lev. 18:22), as part of a comprehensive system of forbidden sexual relations, then there is room to invent a permission for those who wish to commit the transgression, since contemporary human morality cannot ignore every person’s desire ‘to realize his sexual identity.’
This is a legal approach containing an internal contradiction in and of itself. If Jewish law must align with human morality, then human morality is decisive. The moment human morality is decisive, there is no longer any binding divine law here. Even Abraham’s claim that human morality is in fact divine morality, and that all we need do is reconcile two divine demands, does not solve the conflict. Human morality, insofar as its source is divine, is in our hands. We determine it, and we alter it from time to time. It follows, then, that we are bound to our own desires, and the Torah of God vanishes.
The verse on the basis of which Rabbi Miki requires the preference of human morality, we prefer to study in accordance with the way of the sages of the Mekhilta: ‘because you do what is good and right in the eyes of the Lord your God’ (Deut. 12:28) — ‘good in the eyes of Heaven and right in the eyes of man.’ One who prefers what appears right in the eyes of man will ultimately have no law left at all.
Eliezer Jesselson
Response to Eliezer Jesselson’s critique (published in the newspaper)
I should preface by saying that there were several inaccuracies in the presentation of my positions in the interview (I addressed some of them on my website). But even aside from that, these are complex arguments that fill three thick books, and it is difficult to discuss them and refine them within a framework like this. As for MAGAL, I would comment on the impression created in the interview as though there were attempts to remove me from my position. There is a sharp and legitimate disagreement between us, but there are no intrigues whatsoever. My remark about tenure was not made as a provocation but in order to diminish the aura of courage that might be attached to me unjustly (because of publicly expressing such views). Eliezer was right in saying that there is freedom of expression at the university and at MAGAL, and that is a good thing.
As for his actual remarks, with his permission I will ignore the psychological diagnosis he made of me. It seems strange to me that he is instructing me about the necessity of first principles. That simple fact (for which a citation from Rabbi Soloveitchik is entirely superfluous) is the main subject of several of my books. In addition, I did not understand where he derived the claim that my statement that morality requires belief is an axiom. Had he looked at my books, he would have seen that this claim is based on detailed arguments. Likewise, I did not understand where the claim was drawn from that in my view only morality decides (this also contradicts the other claim he attributed to me, that Jewish law is binding like morality). My position is that morality is binding and Jewish law is binding, as two independent categories rooted in the will of God. From this it follows logically that the decision between them is not entrusted to Jewish law and certainly not to morality (and I certainly did not learn from a verse a statement that, in my opinion, is incorrect).
His remarks about the authority of the sages are quite similar to what I said. As he says, we choose whom to heed and whom not to heed (within the limits of ‘do not deviate,’ Deut. 17:11). Where, then, is there any criticism here of my remarks? Has the Torah of God vanished, in his words, as a result of my position? (Or am I ‘bringing an end to the Torah of God,’ as in the headline attached to his remarks.) It is worth examining this in light of my actual positions, and not in light of what he put into my mouth. I deny it, and in the trilogy I show that, to a considerable extent, it is דווקא the opposing conservative approaches that do this, while I, insignificant as I am, actually save it from their hands.