On Universalism (Column 188)

With God's help

Dedicated to my dear nephew, Uri George Paterzeil,

a mathematician in the making

A few days ago I saw an article claiming that our media gives preference in its reporting to Jews who are killed over Arabs. Here is the gist of the subheading:

It is easy to imagine that if Mahmoud Abu Asbah, who was killed by rocket fire in Ashkelon, had been Jewish, his picture would have opened the broadcasts and reporters would have been standing outside his home. The Israeli media has a different agenda when it comes to non-Jewish fatalities. They are not "all our sons," and they do not bring ratings either.

Shocking, is it not?… Well, actually, not to me. At the outset I will try to explain why, and afterward I will touch a bit on the roots of the matter.

The ratings

The simplest answer is contained in the question itself: it does not bring ratings. The media, by its nature, deals with what interests the public. I have always wondered why we are told about every actor or singer who dies in a car accident or from illness, not to mention a politician or media personality, while the greatest Torah scholars, scientists, or philosophers are not really of interest to anyone. A philosopher, a well-known rabbi, or a scientist may get some small item at the end of the paper or a brief one-time remark at the end of the news broadcast, but people of real stature and exalted character, great Torah figures, or thinkers who do not belong to the "right" camp will not even get that. This is indeed annoying, but within the framework in which our media operates, the sanctimonious complaints above strike me as downright disingenuous.

Whether we like it or not, the media reports according to ratings. Not only in the news, of course. Television channels devote hours to reality entertainment, and very little, if any, to intellectually serious programs. I have never once heard a media report about a brilliant solution to a logical puzzle or about an innovative conceptual or scholarly insight in the Talmud. Even about scientific news you will hear almost nothing beyond a few descriptions (in many cases infantilizing) of what the reporter thinks is an impressive scientific discovery. Our media considers it more important to report what so-and-so said about so-and-so, who is dating whom, and who broke up with whom, simply because that gets ratings.

I entirely share the criticism of ratings culture, but it seems to me that within the existing (sub-)culture, raising claims about underreporting an Arab hit by a rocket in Ashkelon is simply ridiculous. It seems to me part of the obsession with racism; I mean those who try morning and night to show us our miserable condition ("It reminds me of dark days, Germany of the 1930s," and the like). Certain people derive a pathological pleasure from exposing racism at every turn, whether it exists there or not. In my view, that belongs more to the department of psychiatry than to that of ethics or philosophy.

What the media ought to report

Beyond the common criticisms of ratings culture, which as noted I share on the principled level as well, there is an incorrect claim here even if we had an ideal media. As a rule, let me say at the outset that the media has no obligation whatsoever to equality in reporting. To the best of my judgment, media reporting is supposed to bring one of two things to the public's attention: either what is important (even if it is not interesting), or what is interesting (even if it is not important). The first is the media's fundamental value, and the second is a service to the public. Therefore there is certainly room to criticize the media if it fails to bring what is important because it is not interesting. That is what we discussed above (ratings culture). By the same token, there is room for criticism if something interesting is not brought because it is not important. That is a failure in the media's service to the public (and also in the media's own interest: ratings). But if it does not bring what is neither important nor interesting, I see no grounds for criticism.

Now think about it: obviously it is important (to some degree) and interesting (to some degree) to know that a person was hit by a rocket. But why is it important to know his personal details? Does his name have news value? Never mind his name and details, but does a live, gloomy report from outside his house have any added public value? All of these are plainly unimportant items of information (indeed, they are not really information at all). The thing that has clear news value is the fact that a person was killed by the rocket strike. That is all. One can also mention that he was an Arab from Halhul. That too has some news value, even if only as a curiosity. By the same token, it is not important to know the name of a Jewish resident of Ashkelon or Ashdod if he were struck, and certainly not what his family or friends feel. After all, it is obvious to all of us that the unnecessary live reports from outside the victim's home are a media attempt to squeeze honey from a rock. Such reports are meant to wring a bit of public emotion out of the victims, stir up ratings, and fill a little airtime.

The conclusion is that such reports are certainly not important, and at most they are interesting. As stated, an interesting report that is not important is not really a journalistic value, but at most a service to the public. That is assuming that it really is interesting. But here that obviously depends on who the victim is and whom it might interest. Details about such a victim are certainly of interest to his friends and relatives, and it is reasonable to assume that a Jewish victim has such circles among viewers of Channel 1 news. But a victim who is a resident of Halhul has very few relatives and friends who watch Channel 1 or 2 news, and so it is hardly surprising to me that the system does not see fit to devote substantial space to such reports.

The conclusion is that a detailed filmed report on a Jewish victim is not important but perhaps a bit interesting, whereas a similar report on a Palestinian victim from Halhul (beyond the mere fact that he was injured or killed) is neither important nor interesting. So why on earth should the media devote detailed coverage to it? Let the PLO news or the Halhul local paper do that (that would be far more appropriate). And again, I do not mean in the slightest to belittle the value of a human life, of any nationality and from any place whatsoever. I am simply describing the facts as they are and what follows from them.

It is the way of our media to bring reports that are interesting and not important. With that we must make our peace, at least as a service to the public. But when it does not bring a report that is neither interesting nor important, I am only glad. I certainly have no criticism of that.

The lack of equality

What remains is the feeling of inequality. After all, if they do this for a Jew, why not do it for an Arab as well? I understand that inequality in reporting can arouse unpleasant feelings, but the media has never been committed to equality. A demonstration of a few dozen leftists will sometimes receive media focus out of all proportion compared to demonstrations of tens of thousands from the Right, which are sometimes not mentioned at all in the mainstream media. Here it is not even ratings, but simply the social milieu of the news editors and presenters. Here, precisely, there is room for criticism, because as I explained, the two relevant criteria for news reporting are public interest and importance. Any other criterion (such as the social and ideological affiliation of the news editor) is not a relevant consideration.

What accounts for the inequality in reporting? If there is any such inequality here at all, its basis lies in the public's attitude toward the two situations: as I explained, the public of news consumers on Channel 1 or 2 is interested in the details of a Jewish victim and less interested in the details of a Palestinian victim, certainly if he is a resident of Halhul. The difference in levels of coverage in this case lies not in the media but in us. But even regarding the public, I do not think there is anything wrong with its being more interested in those close to it and less interested in those far from it, and certainly much less in those who belong to the very people that sends these rockets at us. Is the American press supposed to report the details of the civilians hurt in the bombing of Dresden in Germany during World War II in the same way as it reports American soldiers or civilians who were hurt? I remind you that there too there were masses of innocent casualties, and nevertheless it was clear to everyone that their personal details were simply not relevant to the American news-consuming public. I assume that the news about Dresden at the time included the facts and a bit of surrounding color. Certainly not live coverage from outside the victims' homes. You know what? There was not live coverage even of the victims in Poland or even in Britain. The reason is that there was no public interest in the details of those victims in the U.S. And despite that, I am fairly convinced that nobody at that time wrote an indignant article on any website about that racism and inequality.

A side note

This is the place to make another similar remark. In an article I saw a few days later, we were told that landlords refused to rent a house to an Ethiopian family because they disliked the smell of the injera they eat:

After they signed a contract and transferred checks, the landlord called Sarah Argao and her partner to check whether they prepared "all the foods of the community." When Argao answered that sometimes her mother brings her injera, the landlord apologized and informed them that the agreement was canceled and the payment would be returned to the couple. "I am shocked. Enough with racism."

Immediately, of course, the predictable claims of racism arise here too, which is probably baseless. If the tenants had seemed unable to pay to the landlord, he would not have rented them the house. More than that, if that same family kept a dog, nobody would have said a word about a refusal to rent them a house (this happens every day). Why? Because the landlord does not want his house filled with dog hair or dog odors. So why should a person have to agree that the walls of his house absorb the smells of foods he dislikes? That is his taste and it is his house, and he has the right to act according to his taste. What does that have to do with racism?! Of course, it is always possible that this is a pretext concealing pure racism underneath, but I did not see in this article even a shred of evidence. To accuse someone, or even to suspect him, of racism requires some evidence.

In passing, I will note that if a person rises to a high moral level and is nevertheless prepared to absorb the inconvenience so as not to hurt people, blessed be he. But there is a great distance between that and the determination that someone who is not prepared for this is a racist.

Discrimination against Arabs

At first I planned to devote the column to these two remarks about racism and inequality, but afterward I thought there is a more basic and deeper point here that is worth dwelling on. I will begin with the unequal attitude of Jews toward Arabs.

I have already mentioned here in the past that discriminatory and unequal treatment in the State of Israel (both by individuals and by the state) toward Arabs is not necessarily an expression of racism. These are our declared enemies, who have been spilling our blood for more than a hundred years. Quite apart from the question of who is right in this conflict, it seems simply ridiculous to me to expect a person who, together with his friends, family, and people, has been under violent attack from them for more than a hundred years to relate to them equally and to take an interest in their fate exactly as in the fate of his own people. I wonder whether the diligent reporter expects Palestinian television to devote to Jewish victims of terror the same amount of coverage that it devotes to Palestinian victims of IDF bombings. The term sanctimoniousness seems too weak to me to describe this absurd demand. Even regarding our fellows, the demand "love your fellow as yourself" ("love your neighbor as yourself") sounds almost impossible (and not for nothing does Rabbi Akiva formulate it negatively: "what is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow" ["what is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow"]). But with respect to our enemies, this already seems a truly bizarre demand.

My claim is that the different attitude toward Arabs in Israel is first of all a natural result of the conflict, and as such it does not necessarily have a racist background. That does not mean that racism does not sometimes peek out among us; it does. But in most cases, treating such an attitude as racism is mere tendentious propaganda, or at best a misunderstanding. Moreover, I hope it will not surprise you if I say that I too think there is no place for discrimination against Arabs simply by virtue of their being Arabs, and that I too very much dislike these phenomena. And if with respect to private citizens this is still tolerable, with respect to the state and its institutions it is of course illegitimate. But by the same token, I object to dragging the name of racism into every place without any distinction. The discriminatory attitude in these cases is usually a natural reaction of one people fighting another people. Even if at times the natural reaction is unworthy and it is desirable to refrain from it and struggle against it, anti-racist grandstanding in these cases is propaganda or ignorance.[1]

On universality

The deeper basis for this obsessive criticism stems from universalism. Left-wing people are often accused of lacking national attachment (many of them admit as much). I think this is not true of all of them, but it is certainly true as a generalization. The Left (for present purposes, I mean the Left in all its forms: both liberal and communist) definitely tends more toward universalism than the Right.[2] That is hard to deny. I am not even sure it is bad, but it is a fact. The basic feeling at the root of universalism is that a world in which no distinction is made between nation and nation and between person and person would be a better and more moral world, less violent and more just and generous. Therefore we must overcome the particularism that is ingrained in us (evolution is against us here), and behave equally toward all creatures in the world.

It seems to me that here too, as in other contexts, the leftist thesis sounds lofty in theory, but in practice it does not really work. You may say: even if it does not work, what is wrong with it? It surely cannot do harm. A little aspiration for peace and equality never killed anyone. Well, actually it can. It becomes clear to me again and again that, at least in some respects, when it does not work the situation becomes worse than without it. Utopias are impressive, enchanting, and idealistic things, but they are also very dangerous and very harmful. Incidentally, this is the main difficulty with this type of criticism, since my arguments criticize a person or a group for being too good and too idealistic.

Instead of elaborating, I will bring here passages from what I wrote to my dear nephew Uri (to whom this column is dedicated) for his bar mitzvah (Haifa, the Sabbath of Nitzavim, nearly ten years ago). I tried to describe to him the differences between the outlooks he receives at home (which tends toward universalism) and the more particularist outlooks he sees among us, his uncles, and to consider the meaning of the dispute and its importance. As you will see, this is a description of two positive sides, but in my opinion sometimes being too positive can cause harm.

The Sermon from the Mount (Carmel)

Last week's Torah portion begins with the verse:

You are standing today, all of you, before the Lord your God: your tribal heads, your elders, and your officers, every man of Israel; your little ones, your wives, and the stranger in your camp, from your woodcutters to your water drawers.

Before God stands a great multiplicity and diversity of people and groups. But their significance as a single unit derives from the fact that they all stand before God, before a great idea, and before values.

In the family in which you are growing up there are different shades, whose outlooks, at least on certain issues, differ greatly. And yet, it seems to me that all of them stand before ideas (sometimes opposing ones, but not always) and act to realize them. That is already something shared that you can take with you.

But there is also an advantage in what separates, not only in what is shared. I was once young and I have grown old, and I have not seen anyone who is always right about everything (except for one, whom I occasionally see in the mirror). Therefore the fact that there is diversity also contributes to the shaping of ideas, values, and ideals, and does not merely draw nourishment from them.

One of the things that is very important for someone who lives in an intellectual and ideological environment, religious or secular, is the ability to criticize, weigh, formulate a position, and decide independently. Sometimes that is difficult. Very few do it. And yet, family diversity may help you become such a person.

At the center of the difference between the two poles in the family is the attitude toward questions of universality (= relating to all human beings as equals and as belonging to the same circle of concern) versus particularism (= relating to one's surroundings in a model of circles, one around another). In the family in which you are growing up there is a tendency toward the universal, toward equal regard for every person of every kind. We, who believe in a different path, have learned to value and appreciate that path, and no less the people who walk in it, despite disagreements on certain points. And yet, I want to present and raise another angle here. I will reveal to you a secret that will surely surprise you (do not tell anyone): your mother and I have had a few arguments in the past, one or two. But as far as I remember, the only argument we ever had under screen names on an internet forum was about this issue.

If we move to the portion you read, the portion of Ha'azinu, already at the beginning God turns there to heaven and earth as though they were human beings:

Give ear, O heavens, and I will speak; let the earth hear the words of my mouth. May my teaching drop like the rain, may my speech distill like the dew, like showers upon fresh growth and like abundant drops upon the grass.

The inanimate world enters here into the human drama. It listens, and serves as a witness to the word of God. In fact, God speaks to us through it and by means of it. Today there is an approach called eco-ethics (= ecology on an ethical rather than utilitarian basis), which advocates a respectful and considerate attitude toward living beings, plant life, and the inanimate, not only for the sake of improving human life, but also for their own sake.

Rabbi Kook, who was the first Chief Rabbi of Israel (back when chief rabbis were still expected to know how to read), in his work 'The Vision of Vegetarianism and Peace,' speaks about the attitude toward plant life. There he supports the eco-ethical conception, but he also says that one must be very careful when taking this path. He writes that equal regard for every creature, which in itself is certainly positive and worthy, may (though not necessarily) lead to an improper attitude toward those who are located in circles closer to us. That is human nature, even if we do not always like it, and therefore we must take it into account. Someone who is overly scrupulous about caring for living beings, plants, and the inanimate may arrive at a dismissive attitude toward human beings. There are examples of this.

The world was created in concentric circles of concern (= circles with a common center), one within another. Parents care first of all for their children, then for the wider family, then for neighbors, and then for those beyond the family, the city, the country, and the world. A person will usually not sell his house in order to save the life of a neighbor who needs an expensive operation, but he will do so for his children, his wife, and his family members. Jewish law tells us "the poor of your own city come first" ("the poor of your own city come first"), meaning that we must give priority to concern for the immediate circle around us, and only afterward care for the broader circles. This may seem problematic, and there is no doubt that sometimes it also leads to distortions and discrimination, but it seems to me that on balance it is still more correct this way. I think that if we distribute responsibility by means of distinct and hierarchical circles, the world will be better than if it were run according to an extreme universalist approach. This is a certain division of the burden, even though sometimes it may indeed lead to distortions. It is important to understand that concern for the inner circle does not stem only from preferring it to the others; at its root lies a conception that, in the end, such a way of dividing the burden can lead to a better situation with respect to all the circles, that is, to the whole world.

This does not mean that we may ignore more external circles. On the contrary: to the extent possible (especially when this does not come at the expense of the inner circles), one should care for every person, and perhaps also for every creature. There was once a righteous Jerusalemite named Rabbi Aryeh Levin, who was known for going to visit lepers who had been ostracized from human society (out of fear of being infected by them, and also because of the stigmas attached to that disease). He also supported and cared for prisoners, and all kinds of unfortunate and needy people, and became an actual legend of kindness (I know that is a capitalist concept) and good-heartedness already in his lifetime. Rabbi Aryeh Levin recounts that when Rabbi Kook came to the Land, he went to greet him, and they took a walk together. While they were walking, Rabbi Aryeh Levin absentmindedly plucked a leaf from a tree standing there by the way. He recounted that suddenly he saw Rabbi Kook deeply shaken, and when he asked him what this meant, Rabbi Kook rebuked him and told him that one must not pluck a leaf just like that, for no reason, that is, unless we need it for our use. God created the leaf too, and there is no reason to harm it for no reason. Rabbi Kook did not ignore the outer circles (including plants), but he nevertheless thought it important to preserve the hierarchy among them. When human beings need that leaf, of course it is permissible and proper to pluck it and use it.

Universality versus particularism is only one example, but I think it is not an accidental example, one among several others; rather, it expresses a very deep foundation of the difference between us. I think this dispute has two sides, and I would be happy if at least we agreed on that claim. Each of us needs to find and define his own balance between these poles, and there are certainly disputes about what the correct balance point between them is, but that is already another story.

To conclude, I return to the issues with which we have dealt here. My feeling is that someone who relates to every victim from every circle in the same empathetic way and with the same degree of attention may lose the ability to offer genuine empathy. Someone who takes an equal interest in every trouble and distress in the world may lose the capacity to share in his friend's distress. Ordinary human beings, unlike exceptional people of rare moral stature, are consigned to living in different circles that stand in a hierarchy. It is not for nothing that we were created this way, by God and/or by evolution, blessed be it, because this is the best prescription for the survival of us all and for a better life for us all. Whoever can rise above this without paying the price, blessed be he, but it is not right to call on everyone to behave this way. In my understanding, that may lead to real devastation.

[1] Some hate the other, and some hate their own people (and therefore accuse them of hating the other merely because he is other, even when there is nothing to it). I do not know which of the two groups is the greater saint.

[2] There is room to discuss the place of anarchism on this map, but this is not the place for it.