Reflections Following the Meron Disaster (Column 387)
Although the blood is still boiling and the gates of tears have not been closed, around this bubbling there also bubbles a stupid and inflammatory discourse which, in my estimation, it is time to address rationally (yes, there is such a level of discussion, for anyone who has forgotten).
On Emotion and Foolishness
I will preface by saying that my main goal on this site is to push back against the bluster and emotionalism that characterize discourse in our parts and to try, even a little, to tilt it toward something more logical, substantive, and rational. This applies to religious thinking, but also to human thinking in general. Of course, in our world—awash in foolishness and emotion—this is a suicidal mission, but I realized long ago that I harbor self-destructive tendencies (as Ehud Barak once said: “If you were a Palestinian teenager, I would have been a suicide bomber.” A simple and obvious statement—though that didn’t spare him the predictable emotional outburst it provoked).
What triggers this column is, of course, the discourse around Meron, and also what developed here on the site about it. It faithfully reflects a situation in which intelligent people fall into a mental and emotional fixation that prevents the possibility of dialogue with them. Say something rational and you’ll get smacked straight from the raging gut (and their tearful eyes). So permit me, as is my way, to pour a bit more fuel on this bonfire of vanities, and you are certainly invited to respond and pour it over me in the talkbacks. I’m sure you will, but I write these words for those few who refuse to be swept away by the sentimental foolishness flooding our streets. Good luck to us all.
I have written more than once that feelings are overrated. Almost all of us have them, and of course they should be taken into account. But feelings are now regarded as something sacred that must not be offended. Indeed, one shouldn’t hurt people for no reason in any way—at least as long as it isn’t necessary. But emotion is not a guide and cannot tell us what is right and what is proper. Moreover, usually when a person writes and speaks out of stormy emotions, he will talk nonsense. The main reason for the shallowness of discourse in our milieu is the exalted status given to emotions. Emotion is the mother of all sin; it bears primary responsibility for the appalling stupidity and the bluster in our discourse.
The Cry of the “Robbed Cossack”
The fact that someone is sad—even if he has been deeply hurt by me—doesn’t mean he is right. Likewise, the fact that someone has hurt another person doesn’t mean he is wrong. One can lodge claims of courtesy and timing against the offender, but those often get mixed with substantive claims that well up from the depths of emotion.
This morning I received an email from someone who feels sharp criticism toward Haredi society (he himself grew up in it, and perhaps still belongs to it), and he wonders when his criticism is impolite and when it’s contemporary silencing under the tool of the almighty PC. I wrote back that there is no real connection between courtesy and PC. PC tries to change thought by changing speech and terminology, whereas courtesy only demands that we express things in a way that doesn’t hurt someone. I added that there are no rules of courtesy for thought—only for behavior and speech. In thought, the only rules are true and false. In speech and behavior, one must also consider consequences for others. In the critiques of Yaron London’s remarks that took up significant space here on the site and in the media in general, PC claims and criticisms of discourtesy are mixed together, and many take them into the realm of substance—usually without even noticing. This sharply illustrates what I am describing here.
Incidentally, the over-reliance on manners arises precisely when the claims are correct and you have no adequate response to them. Then you pull out the doomsday weapon and lament that it’s hurtful and impolite and inhuman, and altogether boorish. If you also make sure to be offended and say that the speaker is “dancing on blood,” you will certainly come out on top. Many people and groups who behave improperly—especially when they cannot justify their conduct, morally and/or rationally—when criticized for it, instead of answering, they take offense and accuse (which, of course, is entirely forgotten when they themselves criticize others). In Yiddish, this phenomenon is called “the cry of the ‘robbed Cossack’.” This is another reason it’s wrong to yield to accusations and shut up even in difficult hours. Various Cossacks exploit this for their purposes.
Initial Reflections on Lag BaOmer in Meron
One cannot escape a few opening words about the very “Rashbi carnival” in Meron. It is a bizarre event without equal—perhaps except for the graves-carnival and the tzaddik-cult in Uman. Here’s the recipe: take a day whose origin and meaning are unclear (see Responsa Chatam Sofer, Yoreh De’ah §§233–234), pour into it bizarre contents that our ancestors never imagined and that no one knows what they mean (probably nothing), add a pinch of customs whose foundation is on “mountains of holiness” (i.e., in the office of the middle Rebbe of Weisskvas-Piltz, the one who, after a legal struggle with his brother, managed to gain the slice of the dynasty covering the northern chain of the Shalshelet settlement and who sports a pink-and-gold gartel), mix well, cook for half an hour, and it will immediately become the biggest, most “religious” central event in the world—and all the multitudes of our wise and intelligent people will cooperate with this foolishness. Tried and tested.
As I understand it, this carnival and the mass hankering after it come from exactly the same place as the Boombamela festival or trance parties among secular people. It’s a well-known, if sad, fact that many people feel a deep inner pull toward emotion and ecstasy to lift them out of their a priori everyday life and give them a feeling of elevation. Those parties are just contemporary examples, but this didn’t start today. That was likely also the source of the ecstasy of idolaters who gaped to Peor, or those who danced around the Golden Calf and said to it, “This is your god, O Israel.” People seek an outlet for their longings toward the spiritual, the ecstatic, and the emotional. They want to flee the annoying, cold intellect that forces us to think and to distinguish between Shabbat and the six weekdays, between the essential and the peripheral (and the petty), and between one who serves God and one who does not. And if there is no intellect—whence the distinction?!
Instead of studying heavy theoretical subjects and using their brains, they prefer to ruminate on Hasidic bon mots that demand nothing and require no effort—even though they teach us nothing. But they grant us sublime experiences of depth without content. Hence the study days and lectures on such topics are packed and teeming with people, while rigorous, systematic learning in various fields is set aside like a stone no one turns. The priestess lies in the corner while the innkeeper sacrifices on the altar.
People prefer to separate challah with fervor and believe it will heal someone’s illness, rather than understand that challah is a commandment like any other that we fulfill because we were so commanded, and that performing it for such aims borders on a biblical prohibition. In the end, it’s just a prosaic acknowledgment of a grim reality. Far more satisfying and uplifting is to separate challah while murmuring (whose source is on those same “mountains of holiness” above), and then to avoid acknowledging that it did not help in any way. No tear and no lofty murmur ever returns empty, as is well known.
Back to Lag BaOmer. It starts with a few rebbes looking for a niche in which to stand out. Apparently they have nothing more interesting and useful to say or do, so how will it be known that they are rebbes? How will we all know they are scions of tarshishim and arelim, who themselves descended from other tarshishim and arelim (was there ever a real tarshish and ariel in such a chain? Who knows?!). I once heard that the Rebbe of Sanz took as a son-in-law for his daughter a “simple” young man who was examined by him on two thousand pages of Talmud. When asked how a prominent rebbe like him permits himself to match with someone so “simple,” he replied that he prefers someone who begins the pedigree over one who ends it. These rebbes enlist the services of gabba’im, fixers, and PR people, and all of them quarrel among themselves and run legal and other intrigues to secure exclusive rights to the sacred lighting ceremonies in Meron. These are rights to spaces in place and time—who will light a bonfire and who won’t—and who will enhance the name of his well-known ariel-and-tarshish rebbe. “My rebbe is a bigger tough guy, for he lit the Lag BaOmer bonfire of vanities with lofty, obscure murmurs at location X at time Y—unlike your rebbe, nebich, who lit only at location Y and time X, and who had only 10,000 foolish Hasidim, not 200,000 like ours. Besides, his face wasn’t really seized with holy rapture and supreme joy like my rebbe’s.” Thus the myths of “chai rotel” are born and become mass articles of faith; I suppose this is exactly how idolatry was born.
This PR machine—purely about money, power, and honor—bears fruit, surprisingly enough, because it clothes itself in those same longings for “spirituality” and experiences in a way that does not require intellectual effort, Heaven forbid (just a bit of pushing and suffering, and murmuring Psalms that will bring salvation in the merit of the tzaddik). The fact that there are serious concerns of several grave halachic prohibitions will not stop our idolaters, nor will it prevent them from staging the largest trance party in the world. When I see the mass, uniform, ecstatic swaying of the crowd at these worthless, tasteless events, I shudder at the immense power of mass suggestion and recall idolatrous experiences we supposedly were spared in these generations. I confess with shame that even I, small as I am, sometimes feel a sense of “experience” when present at various rituals (religious or not). We are all human. But I try to overcome it, and certainly do not turn it into something of value—i.e., into an ideology. At most, it is a surrender to our baser needs—and even that is permissible from time to time. An “experience” is merely a kind of leisure activity (and when it is mass, it is usually base and herd-like, in my view), nothing more.
“All Mockery Is Forbidden—Except Mockery of Idolatry”
I think I have already brought here the words of R. Yitzchak Hutner in his Pachad Yitzchak on Purim. He explains the Sages’ dictum (end of Megillah 25b):
Rav Nachman said: All mockery is forbidden, except mockery of idolatry, which is permitted, as it is written, “Bel bows, Nebo stoops,” and it is written, “They stooped, they bowed together; they could not deliver the burden…” Rabbi Yannai said [we learn it] from here: “The inhabitants of Samaria shall fear for the calves of Beth-aven, for its people shall mourn over it, and its priests shall tremble over it, over its glory, because it is departed from it”—do not read “its glory” (kevodo) but “its heaviness” (kevido). Rav Huna bar Menoach said in the name of Rav Acha the son of Rav Ika: It is permitted for a Jew to say to a gentile, “Take your idol and place it on its shin and tav [i.e., on its posterior].” Rav Ashi said: One whose name is offensive is permitted to be mocked with a gimel and shin [i.e., to distort it disparagingly]; one whose name is pleasant is permitted to be praised; and one who praises him—blessings shall rest on his head.
Why is mockery—apparently not much liked by the Sages (though I do like it)—permitted with respect to idolatry? R. Hutner explains after first clarifying what is bad about mockery per se: it punctures a hole in the balloon of anything important and lets out the air (like a shield anointed with oil). And what is bad about idolatry? There we encounter great importance accorded to things that are intrinsically devoid of importance (wood and stone). Therefore, R. Hutner explains, mockery is the right and proper tool for dealing with idolatry: it pricks the empty balloon of importance and returns it to its natural size. One must understand that indeed the idolaters are hurt by such mockery, and it is certainly impolite to behave that way. True—but no less important is puncturing the balloon of idolatry than avoiding hurting its worshippers. If they worship idolatry, they must bear the consequences of the war against it.
You will surely be surprised to hear that I often engage in the craft of mockery, since it is very dear to me. But I think I always do so (at least this is my policy in principle) where I see a whiff of idolatry—i.e., where disproportionate importance is given to something devoid of importance. In cases of mere mistakes (in my view) or in a debate about a topic that truly has two sides—even if I hold one of them—I do not usually resort to mockery; I conduct the debate in a more serious tone. But where disproportionate importance is accorded to something unimportant—be it a person, a text, a concept, or an idea—there I stand by R. Hutner’s words. Note that precisely in such places people are hurt by criticism, for it touches what seems to them very important. Yet precisely there the Sages instruct us not to recoil from causing that hurt. In a sense, this is the cry of the “robbed Cossack” that I discussed above.
I will add that even in debates of the second sort I present arguments, but I certainly allow myself to present them cynically. This is the important, delicate difference between irony/cynicism and lack of substance. Lack of substance is unacceptable to me in any situation. Lack of substance is when one jokes without presenting arguments—not when one presents arguments in a cynical formulation. When I present a position and people attack it as heresy or mock it—this is non-substantive. But if they present arguments against it—even if phrased cynically—bless them. I very much enjoy such phrasing; it adds some salt and pepper to our lives (you see, I too am drawn after “experiences”). When I am offended by someone’s words, I know I’ve been caught without an answer, and then I make a point of trying to overcome it. That reaction is irrelevant and certainly no substitute for arguments. If I have no counter-arguments, I must honestly admit I was wrong and not use offense to exit the debate with dignity (the “robbed Cossack” effect). In short, cynicism and substance are not necessarily opposites.
Yaron London
I assume there’s no need to present Yaron London’s words about the Meron disaster, which are now appearing under every green tree. Nevertheless, I bring them here in full so your eyes can see them straight. I suggest reading them attentively and critically, without falling captive to emotional traps and distortions that appeared in the media:
| Almost nothing.
From my place as an Israeli, Jewish, atheist, liberal, leftist, rationalist, Tel Avivian, I try to honestly examine my state of mind from the moment I learned of the disaster in Meron. The calamity of my loved ones shakes me. The tremor lessens in proportion to how far the victim is from the seismograph that registers the intensity of my feelings. The troubles of my children and grandchildren produce in me a quake of ten on the Richter scale, whereas the disaster of thousands in Bangladesh scarcely stirs a fiber of my heart. At the far end of the scale lies schadenfreude at the victim’s misfortune, and beyond that—complete indifference. If the intensity of one’s reaction to a disaster indeed marks the distance between me and the community of mourners, how great is that distance? I recall a figure who appeared on the news broadcast before the deadly commotion broke out. The man boasted of his devotion to tradition: “I haven’t missed a single celebration for decades.” In my heart I wanted to ask him, “And what is the point of such persistence?” but I immediately silenced the question, driven as it was by a condemnable judgmentalism. Everyone has the right to choose his pleasures, and it isn’t for me to judge. In answer to a question about the fear of crowding, a Petri dish of viruses, he replied that “the merit of Rabbi Shimon will protect us.” “Yes,” I said to myself, “it will protect you just as his teacher, Rabbi Akiva, protected the hundreds of thousands of Jews slaughtered in the days of the Bar Kochba revolt.” The answer of this complacent unknown already justified my anger, because the carelessness shown by him and his ilk somewhat increased the danger to those outside their circle—including me. Know that I suffer from agoraphobia, whose literal meaning is “fear of the marketplace,” and one of its signs is fear of being in a crowded place. Seeing the tens of thousands of men packed into the stadium awaiting the start of the lighting ceremony, almost none of them with a mask covering their face, a thought flashed in my mind that the pilgrims might be struck by some version of the disasters of the Maccabiah bridge, the Arad festival, and the Versailles wedding hall. But I silenced the siren in my head, because I am not the patron of the Haredim nor their tutor, and if they despise danger and so revel in dragging mattresses and sacks of food, crammed into smoke-belching buses groaning up the Galilee climbs, sweating in bursting train cars, if their spirits expand thanks to crowding and rubbing shoulders, to infants’ wails and the singeing of toddlers’ locks, to the blare of shofars and choking on bonfire smoke, and all this for the sake of an ancient sage whose rulings few of them understand but in whose magical powers all of them believe—why should I worry about them? Helping to quell the sense of immediate danger was the absence of distinguishing marks among the individuals in the images of the masses. They resembled each other as wildebeest resemble one another when they fall to the jaws of crocodiles swarming the Mara River during the great migration across the Serengeti plain. The herd by the tens of thousands charges the river, shoulder rubbing shoulder. The wildebeest slide from the bank like a waterfall and cross the strip of brown water where crocodiles lie in wait, and the viewer cannot tell one from another—unless the cameraman chooses to focus on a struggling calf whose fate is sealed. If, say, one of the gathered in Meron had worn a red shirt, or a wide-brimmed cowboy hat, or stood out by his height, or sported a pirate’s eye patch over one eye—my soul might have fastened to him in some way. But I felt no closeness to the featureless silhouettes—thousands of identical shadows moving in unison on the TV screen. Why should I care if a few dozen of them drop like identical cardboard cutouts at a shooting gallery? News of the disaster reached me only in the morning, and my reaction was, “Told you so!” An arrogant response, full of condescension and schadenfreude. I condescended to the Haredim as a sober adult condescends to a wild child who drives recklessly and hits a wall. Anger is there, too, because the stupid child defied me, rebelled against my authority, insulted my dignity, and now burdens me with the need to worry about him and take care of him. He also forces me to share his sorrow, because it is impolite to refrain from expressing sorrow—and I have troubles of my own. I rebuked myself for the “told you so,” but I also could not identify with the tone of mourning with which radio and TV announcers spoke—the slightly slow tone, a quarter-octave lower—reserved for announcements about IDF fallen and for other heavy disasters that occur only in the Jewish world. I knew that immediately we would hear the voices of survivors, accounts by those who almost died and were saved only by a miracle, complaints about policemen who acted this way or that and thereby worsened the disaster, reports of intrigues within the police, Netanyahu in his deep voice would utter sentences taken from the drawer in the chest of drawers in which the words appropriate for such events are stored, demands to establish a commission of inquiry and to dismiss officials, explanations about the Jewish character that excels in sky-high initiative and neglects details (“The redhead forgot the key,” by Ephraim Kishon). One of the Lau rabbis would say that the pain is all of ours and that in such situations disagreements are forgotten, for once again it turns out that we are one people and responsible for each other. Someone would say “Holocaust.” It would not be long before field reporters, prodded by panicking editors, would bring us the pictures of the dead with texts teaching the greatness of the loss. All the deceased would be of noble character, and some would have relatives who had just died in other disasters—because in the Hebrew media there is no disaster victim who dies without a wreath of prior family disasters. To sum up: for now I express sorrow out of courtesy. I feel roughly what I felt in September 2015, when 2,411 people were crushed to death during the Hajj in Mecca—a faint “oy,” as it were. I try to internalize the sorrow, to resuscitate it, to arouse it, to make it a personal, authentic experience rather than a rote commandment—and the effort does not succeed. For now I feel toward this disaster and its victims much as I felt upon hearing of a tsunami on an Indonesian island. Almost nothing. |
Words of steel. He wrote the truth with praiseworthy honesty. There isn’t a word of antisemitism here, nor anything shameful. There is a description of the feelings of a liberal Israeli who feels alienated from the Haredim and, from his perspective, they are like Rwandans or members of another people far away—so their disaster does not touch him on the emotional plane. He of course shares their sorrow, as with the sorrow of any human being who suffers, but he doesn’t feel toward them as toward family whose grief touches him personally. What here is not self-evident? What here merits criticism? This is an authentic, honest description of emotions that many Israelis feel but do not dare articulate because of consideration for the Haredim and because of PC.
These words come after years and generations in which the Haredim maintain an ideology of alienation and separation from all around them; of non-contribution and narrow, sectoral self-interest; of extensive exploitation without a drop of gratitude toward the systems that surround them (health, defense, justice, police, education, psychological counseling and guidance, academia, and more); of laying the blame for every disaster on others and their views and refusing true soul-searching; of primitivism and ossification of thought; of insane, monopolistic coercion of their norms on the general public that does not believe in them, does not acknowledge them, and does not want them—some not even anchored in halacha (Shabbat, kashrut, marriage, conduct at the Western Wall, the content of state ceremonies, and more)—who cares?!; of irresponsible, heavy-footed conduct that harms all of us—economically and in security, and in the past year, in health as well. And after all this, Yaron London, as an atheist and a liberal, honestly admits that he feels alienation toward them, though he even lightly rebukes himself for it (after all, he is a leftist, no?). Isn’t that exactly what they wanted to achieve? This is their policy. So why the rage? He doesn’t belittle anyone’s grief, and if he met a person in sorrow he would surely share it. Here he describes his feelings facing a collective sorrow of some public—not meeting a specific grieving person.
This is truly the “robbed Cossack” phenomenon. Yaron London held up a mirror to them, and suddenly they have no answers or justifications. You do all this to us—flout the rules, revel with graves, and dance with the stars—we protect you, organize for you, and fund you; we are the ones who save you from your own hands (sometimes—we don’t always succeed). And you, in return, despise us and coerce us. And suddenly you discover you’ve succeeded (not really, since the overwhelming majority of the public displayed remarkable empathy). Now you complain. You want consideration and feelings of solidarity—since, after all, we are sons of one father. As noted, when there are no substantive answers, the Cossack takes up the craft of taking offense.
Beyond that, Yaron London expressed a feeling, not a moral or value position. The disaster of any person is sad and we should be saddened by it, and I’m sure that when he sees such a disaster up close he will be sad. He only wondered why, for him, the Haredim’s disaster in Meron differs from that of the Rwandans. The Rwandans did not suffer less (indeed, far more). The claim is that the Haredim are closer to him. But that is an emotional, not a moral, claim. On the emotional plane, London’s feelings are what they are. Those are facts and he merely reports them. There is no value or moral stance here, and therefore I see no room for criticism.
Back to the Difference Between Courtesy and Substance
In passing, I cannot avoid pointing to the words of a teacher named Liat Winder Nokad, who wrote a wonderful and moving post on Facebook—truly a faithful planting, a craftsman’s work, a jar of manna. Very few texts I’ve read are written at that level. I highly recommend reading it.
If you read it, you surely noticed that between the lines there is criticism quite similar to London’s—and just as sharp in substance—but written with great gentleness and empathy (though with no small condescension), and therefore it does not arouse similar feelings in the reader. It would be truly fascinating to compare the content of her words to London’s (they are almost one-to-one) and, alongside that, to compare readers’ reactions to the two posts. The difference between her words and London’s lies mainly in intonation and phrasing, which illustrates just how much people read from the gut rather than the head, and how much they mix courtesy with substance, and form with content.
As I understand it, she does not describe any closeness to the Haredim and certainly not that they are members of the same people as she is. On the contrary, I sense not-so-hidden mockery toward such statements (as Haredi slogans) and a condescending disdain for their primitive conceptions. But in her writing there is extraordinary empathy and an exquisitely gentle style (beyond the very act of going to console mourners in Bnei Brak). The tense combination she achieves is genius—truly an art. I immediately wonder what would happen if she took a similar step toward a disaster that befell Palestinians living here (I can assume that, from her perspective, it is quite similar: not one people—but there is room for empathy and knowing/understanding the other). I am fairly sure that such a step would not elicit a similar response from most readers here—not to mention that they themselves would not take it.
You know what—why speak theoretically?! Ask yourselves what Haredim do in the face of disasters at a song festival or a soccer match. Will you find there empathy of the kind they expect from others here? Will no one there attribute it to the sins of secularism? (“They all engage in nonsense and wasting time—and this is what happens. The hand of God struck those unfortunates!” After all, the Chazon Ish and the Brisker Rav already said wars are because of, and the fault of, the secular.) Would it, for them, be the same sorrow as over the Meron disaster? I have no doubt that for many—the answer is no. Go and see their attitude toward Memorial Day for IDF fallen. It’s not only non-participation in the official ceremonies—that’s entirely forgivable. I’m talking about their principled attitude—what is reflected in the streets and in conversations in the study halls. About the fiery speeches of “what have we to do with them.” I was there and I heard it. Not all, of course—but it is the basic ethos. Incidentally, Yaron London is not “all the secular,” either. On the contrary, the great majority among the secular publicly express remarkable empathy—which (like London) seems to me a bit hypocritical (courtesy obliges). And regarding IDF fallen, these are people who gave their lives for their protection—not just unfortunates who suffered a calamity. And what is the reason for the lack of empathy? Alienation and distance, of course. Most Haredi families do not know soldiers, even less fallen ones. It doesn’t happen in their garden bed—therefore there is little empathy (I’m not speaking of meeting grieving people personally; I mean the public plane). So why should they protest London’s feelings? “Robbed Cossack,” as I said?!
And What About Me?
Contrary to the Greek chorus here on the site that accuses me of identifying with London, nowhere did I write or say that I am not sad about what happened, nor did I express agreement with his words (if only because he makes no claim—he only expresses a feeling). I wrote and said that I fully understand London’s feeling according to his approach and in light of his place and views. I wrote that it is entirely to be expected—natural and fully understandable in my eyes. I also reject with contempt the inflammatory, emotional critiques of him. But I, unlike him, do feel closeness to the Haredim (despite the harsh criticism of them with which I fully agree)—if only because of family connections, religious faith (shared to some extent—after all, they are the sect closest to me), and my personal biography. Some of my best friends are…. But I will not deny that when I heard about the disaster, a few feelings similar to those he describes also passed through me: things like “I told you so,” “a blow to idolaters in the Holy Land,” “a herd of wildebeest,” and the like—and even a bit of schadenfreude (a natural, if undesirable, feeling).
None of this has any connection—nor does it contradict—the sadness one feels at the loss of life and at families in such profound grief and sorrow. On the personal level, that is certainly no less than the personal sadness I would feel if I knew the victims in Rwanda (who, unlike the Haredim, did nothing to me and are not to blame for their situation—but on the other hand, they are also less close to me). I am sure that this is also London’s state. But at the collective level you are not standing before a specific deceased person or a specific bereaved family—you are facing a public that brought disaster upon itself by its own negligent hands, and that constitutes a bitter, harassing, and thoroughly immoral adversary, as I described above. Exactly as Yaron writes—it is the feeling of an adult faced with something that happens to a foolish child who did not heed his voice and brought this upon himself—especially when that child bullies, scorns, and exploits him all his life without any gratitude. Is he expected to feel empathy? But the criers of emotion here, like the media’s PC-soaked ranters—eyes awash with tears and hearts brimming to bursting—are incapable of listening to arguments, let alone understanding them. They cannot see their own blemishes and ascribe their faults to the other. No wonder I feel like I’m speaking to a wall. So instead of talking, I wrote—and pleasant to the one who will hear.
A Theological Note to Conclude
To cap things off, I’ll end with a small point that occurred to me following the disaster, joining the two parts of this column. In Jewish thought it is customary to say that we must engage in soul-searching and learn from everything that happens to us. Personally—as most of you know—I do not think so. Soul-searching—certainly, that’s always good. But understanding reasons for what happens and drawing conclusions—absolutely not. In my view, what happens is (at least usually) the nature of the world, not the handiwork of the Holy One. But for one who thinks that events that occur do come to teach us something, I ask him: what, in your opinion, are we to learn from this event? (Besides strengthening in modesty and sleeve length for women, Torah study, and the prohibition of lashon hara, of course.) If I believed events come to teach us, it would be very hard for me to escape the conclusion that perhaps our intent is acceptable (and perhaps not), but our actions certainly are not. That the cult of graves in Meron is a trance revelry not pleasing before Him.
As you may recall, Rabbi Yitzhak Peretz (rabbi of Ra’anana and former Shas minister) explained to us in toto-d that the “Bnei HaBanim” disaster—the deaths of dozens of schoolchildren from Petah Tikva in a collision with a train—happened because of Shabbat desecration in Petah Tikva (the “Heichal” cinema). And I only wonder: will there be one honest person among the many (almost all) who disagree with me—perhaps Rabbi Peretz himself?!—who would be willing to reconsider his attitude toward the Rashbi carnival in light of what happened? Is this not the hand of God which burst forth a fierce, painful breach among the revelers of idolatry in Meron? This would appear to be a Mount Carmel moment in our day—by their own logic. If one cannot learn this obvious lesson from the disaster that occurred here, then truly events teach us nothing.
For my part, I repeat that from every event that occurs, each person learns what he thought beforehand (as always happens in studying aggadah, Tanakh, and ethics)—that is, he learns nothing from it. From this I also conclude that there is nothing for us to learn from events (on the theological plane), and that the Holy One probably is not trying to teach us anything (otherwise He has failed miserably as a pedagogue—which does not befit an omnipotent being; see my second book in the trilogy). But here I throw down a gauntlet to adherents of the opposite approach. If none of you can be found, that itself will be an admission by the litigants and evidence for my basic position on learning from events. As I said, I think this about the Meron celebration regardless of the disaster, and I also do not think disasters come to teach us anything. But here I argue that anyone who disputes me on both points is presenting a self-contradictory doctrine.
That’s it. I’m done. You may begin to revile and curse me…
Discussion
At long last, something sensible. More power to you.
Many years ago, regarding Rabin's assassination, I argued that the only thing one can learn from it is that the prime minister's security arrangements need to be reexamined, and when I said this to left-wing people they were furious.
In the same way, it seems that with the Meron disaster the only thing one can learn from the event is that the safety arrangements at the site need to be reexamined.
There's no reason to cancel it; festivals are a great thing, and Saturday football games don't allow religious people to attend…
Thank you very much, an interesting and important post.
And even so… in my opinion, the comparison between the posts is unjustified.
Liat, although she belongs to the other, secular group, and has criticism of the Haredi world and its method of thinking, still feels the grief, the sadness; here she is, she comes to console. Why? Would she have gone to the Chinese? Clearly not!
So what is the difference, according to Liat, between the Chinese and the Haredim? Just some vague feeling? Mere manners? Perhaps, but perhaps not. Perhaps Liat belongs to the group of people called “Jews.” True, there are subgroups within the larger group of “Jews.” There are secular Jews and there are Haredim, and indeed it is only natural that a value-based, moral, and emotional connection will stand out more toward one’s own group. But Liat too understands that part of her identity is made up of the Jewish people. In the end, this is our family.
Are there no quarrels within a family? Of course there are. Does every quarrel lead to a break? Certainly not. That is to say, in the end the question is what stands against what, and there is no doubt that death is an extreme, shocking event. Doesn’t it move a person?! How could that be?
The only answer is that, indeed, the Haredim have gone outside the family of that person (London, for example), and now the only question is: is that judgment justified?
So you claim that it is. And here is the gist of it:
“These things come after years and generations in which the Haredim have insisted on an ideology of alienation and separation from everything around them; on lack of contribution and narrow, sectoral, self-interested conduct; on massive exploitation without a drop of gratitude toward everything around them (the health systems, security, the legal system, the police, education, psychological, counseling, and educational care, the academic world, and more and more); on hanging the blame for every disaster on others and their views and an unwillingness to engage in real soul-searching; on intellectual primitiveness and fossilization; on crazy, monopolistic coercion of their norms on the entire public that does not believe in them, does not recognize them, and does not want them, some of which are not even grounded in halakhah, but who cares?! (Shabbat, kashrut, marriage, conduct at the Western Wall, the content of state ceremonies, and more); on grossly irresponsible conduct that harms us all, economically, security-wise, and in the last year also medically.”
But does this stand the test of reality? One must distinguish between leaders, PR people, politicians, and media figures, and most of (!) the Haredi public. Well, it is really hard to say of them that they do not contribute. Pick a family in Bnei Brak at random and see how much they contribute. To accuse them of being self-interested? I find it hard to understand where these things are coming from. Let the public see and judge. Exploitation? No gratitude? Right now I am thinking of Haredi friends who disagree with me and think differently ideologically, and there is not the slightest trace in them of any of these things! Absurd. And finally, on corona—well, what can I do that most of them absolutely do follow the guidelines.
Bottom line: in my opinion, the main failure lies in forming impressions of the Haredi public from declarations, from the media, rather than from the internal life of the Haredi public; then one sees that it is really not portrayed as you describe it—very far from it. Very much so. These things remind me of your view that people should not be judged on the basis of inaccurate texts, but one should live them—and then understand.
So then, you do not live the Haredi public; in my opinion I know it better. And in my opinion, your judgment is unjustified. It does not justify the gap London speaks about. No, this is not the Chinese. And Liat understood that very well.
Sorry for going on so long.
And again, thank you for the post, for the site. I appreciate and respect it very much.
And one more word in closing; this is what you wrote:
“You know what, why talk theoretically?! Ask yourselves what the Haredim do in the face of disasters that happen at a music festival or a football match. Will you find there the same empathy they expect from others here? Would no one there blame it on the crimes of secularity?”
And I agree to the test. But in my opinion you are greatly mistaken.
Here is a scenario: a football stadium. Fifty people died. Would a standard Haredi person not feel sorrow? Can you imagine a Haredi post saying merely, ‘Another fifty Chinese people are gone’? Absolutely not! True, it would not be sorrow in the same way as if Haredim had died, but there would never be such a strong sense of alienation (as with London).
To this one should add:
There is a difference between a spiritual activity (even if mistaken in my view and yours) in which people die, and a sports activity devoid of value. The sadness around a religious act—which has the connotation of the sacrifice of a holy moment, and in which people die—arouses more identification. And there are other differences too.
And nevertheless—yes! They would feel sorrow.
Your words are correct—and painful. It's only a shame that innocent people were hurt and lost their lives because of this. (Among them my dear cousin, the lovely student Ariel Echadut, of blessed memory.)
And I bring the words of Rabbi Hayim David Halevi on the question “Are there cases of chance occurrence in an individual’s life?”
Certainly yes! And the explicit verse is: “When you build a new house, you shall make a parapet for your roof, so that you do not bring bloodguilt on your house if the faller should fall from it.” And the plain meaning of the verse is: “if the one destined to fall falls from it, let it not be you who caused it, such that bloodguilt be in your house.” From here we learn that taking safety precautions prevents disaster… And when a disaster occurs without safety measures, it is the fault of the person who caused this disaster to himself and to others, and there is no necessary ‘divine decree’ here at all. When we know the cause of the disaster that happened to people, we have no need specifically to seek decrees and punishments. And it is quite possible that the hand of chance and lack of caution in the matter caused it, as with the aforesaid parapet” (Responsa Aseh Lekha Rav, vol. 7, no. 69).
And may these words of Rabbi Hayim David Halevi, of blessed memory, serve as a reminder to the fools and the Haredi activists and politicians who knew about the many defects in the Meron compound and kept silent and dismissed them because of petty politics and interests. And at the height of their brazenness they dare say that this is a “decree from Heaven.” (There is no greater blasphemy than that.)
When I read Yaron London's post too, I didn't feel anything unusual. The media wants us to express empathy for everything that happens in the world. You can't open your computer without adwords—about a child with cancer, about associations asking for money for bereaved families, about endless blessings and mystical remedies from various rebbes. A person's emotional system is not capable of handling the pornography that the media presents. The world of emotional excitement overwhelms the world of reason. Dancing at Rashbi's grave draws a million people, but studying Rashbi's Torah does not require police, production, government permits, and High Court petitions. I am constantly surprised to see that slowly, year by year, the mass ceremonies are replacing the study hall in favor of contentless popular worship and self-gratification of life, children, and sustenance.
With God’s help, 23 Iyar 5781
Yaron London is right! One who feels no pain over the suffering of another is not a human being, and therefore there is no point in demanding that he identify with the suffering of human beings. Indeed, we are speaking of different species. Chimpanzees care for their own kind and Homo sapiens for their brothers, and one should not mix one species with another.
With blessings, Adam Neander-Tal
I saw only a small part of what Yaron London said, and even so it was completely clear to me that the outraged reactions toward him are exactly crocodile tears.
Truth be told, I find it hard to believe that among the general public that is not Haredi/Shas there is anyone who feels differently from Yaron London. Except, of course, for a negligible percentage.
That negligible percentage, in my estimation, is the same percentage that has difficulty thinking, evaluating, and analyzing things for itself.
Sadly, it seems that this percentage keeps growing year by year even when no disaster happened that year.
“I keep claiming that from every event that happens, each person learns what he thought beforehand (as always happens in the study of aggadah, Tanakh, and musar), which is to say that he learns nothing from it.”
I have to say I do not understand this attitude toward the study of Tanakh in general (I myself became much more moderate politically after I began studying Tanakh and understood that the attitude toward non-Jews in Israeli society is very different from the traditional halakhic attitude, not to mention other topics in which the outlook of the Written Torah differs from the outlook of Hazal), and especially why you are convinced that the study of purely analytical Talmudic topics is clean and pure of such tendencies. There is an article by Nadav Shnerb in which he lashes out at the “light” religious people who twist halakhah away from its plain meaning in order to reach conclusions that fit their moral conceptions, and admittedly he is forced to concede that his demand for intellectual honesty and adherence to the straightforward sense of things as a supreme value is foreign to Hazal’s mode of thinking.
So you felt deep sorrow when you heard that dozens of Indians died of corona today, right?
What's with this sanctimoniousness?
Everyone according to his circles of social belonging.
It's ridiculous to expect others to feel closeness to you,
especially when the one expecting it is just some pathetic schlemiel that nobody even wants to get close to.
Secular people are mistaken to think there is any connection between them and the Haredim.
They are naive and stupid.
A substantive response to Michi’s words,
Please read Michi’s words critically, and you too will find plenty of nonsense and absurdity.
Whoever wants to respond to what I write, please respond substantively (and preferably seriously) and not with taunts like “Ehud,
you are stupid and idiotic.”
Below is a response to some of Michi’s points (there is lots more nonsense, I just don’t have the energy):
“Instead of studying weighty theoretical subjects and using one’s head”
Who decided that a religious emotional experience is not more important than using one’s head?
On the contrary, we see in the holy Torah the significance of the realm of emotion:
“Because you did not serve the Lord your God with joy and gladness of heart, when you had everything in abundance.”
Our purpose in this world is service and cleaving to God.
Whoever cleaves to God through religious experience—excellent.
Whoever cleaves through dialectics and erudition—excellent.
Of course one has to make sure that when one is emotional or involved in pilpul one is truly doing it in cleaving devotion (for its own sake).
Besides, this claim is so stupid because obviously the Haredim (Hasidim and Lithuanians) study so much Torah,
so to say of them specifically, “instead of studying deep subjects . . .” is simply idiocy. Sorry, Michi.
“To separate challah with devotion . . . and then not recognize that it did not help in any way”
We do not see where it did have an effect.
Michi is attacking a straw man (a religious one, of course), as though everyone who separates challah intends some very specific healing. “That’s how the mind of an average religious person works,” Michi hints.
That is simply not so. Most religious people separate challah (or fulfill any other commandment) in order to bring divine abundance into the world.
Most religious people outgrew thinking God is an ATM machine at about age 15, in faith classes.
But Michi of course still portrays them that way because.
So true, we cannot say exactly where and how it has an effect, but the fact that Michi portrays religious people as “ATM people,” when it is known that most of them are not like that intellectually, only shows what a hack we are dealing with.
“It starts with a few rebbes looking for a niche to distinguish themselves in . . . this PR campaign, all of it economic interests and power and honor . . . ”
Michi has no serious evidence that this is how things are. He presents them in a distorted and malicious way.
Maybe they really do this for the sake of Heaven?
Where does this wicked judgmentalism come from?
What is it based on?
Let me remind us all that the Temple too contained much splendor and honor, so who necessarily says that what was done in Meron does not operate by the same logic?
“For years and generations the Haredim have insisted on an ideology of alienation and separation from everything around them . . .”
Of course he does not mention that almost all the donors (close to one hundred percent) in Rabbi Haber’s association, of blessed memory, are Haredi or Hardali.
And of course he will not mention that according to the Central Bureau of Statistics, the Haredim have the highest volunteer rate.
How does Michi deal with claims that clearly refute entire paragraphs he writes?
So yes, there is a problematic issue among the Haredim vis-à-vis the state (a considerable part of it due to the state and the secular public),
but Michi (and London) are grotesquely turning this mouse into an elephant in order to add oil to the fire of hatred.
“About the fiery speeches of ‘what have we to do with them.’ I myself was there and heard them. It’s not everyone of course, but this is the foundational ethos”
Again, if this is “the foundational ethos,” how can it be that there are so many Haredim volunteering in hospitals, ZAKA, etc.?
“Otherwise He has failed a total pedagogical failure, which doesn’t really suit an omnipotent being like Him”
Even if He failed, the failure is because of us. Because of our *free choice*.
No matter how good the teacher is, if the students choose not to listen, then even if it is the perfect teacher, there will be failure.
What Michi presents is so foolish that one can show it with a very simple example—there are plenty of examples of terrific teachers,
both pedagogically and in mastery of the material, whose class failed because the students chose wrongly.
So what does that say about the teachers?
Friends, I repeat again: read Michi’s words critically and see how much nonsense he is feeding everyone.
Thank you very much for the post.
They say that the Zohar says that one who goes up to a grave connects with the soul of the righteous person and is elevated.
And it also says that the Cave of Machpelah is the place from which prayers rise to Paradise. And the prophet Jeremiah and Caleb son of Jephunneh went there to pray.
1) If someone prays that the righteous person will save him, I understand why that is idolatry. But what is the problem if he prays that the righteous person will pray for him, or that “in the merit of the righteous person” [truthfully I have no idea what that means] God will save him?
2) I spoke with a friend and told him that there is no source whatsoever for what they did on Lag BaOmer on Mount Meron, and he immediately pulled the card: “It’s all according to the view of the Ari and the sages of Kabbalah, who said that Rashbi hands out gifts to those who come, and whoever did not merit to come did not receive an invitation.” Of course at that moment I couldn’t suppress a smile, but still I have never studied Kabbalah, so I have some doubt—maybe the Ari really did write that?
Thank you so much for these sensible words.
The streets of Bnei Brak are now full of notices and pashkevilim with the title “What does the Lord your God ask of you,” which is a foolish wordplay on the number of fatalities, and under that heading it says what God is really asking: Kupat Ha’Ir knows it’s charity (it already published such an ad on Friday (!)); Rabbi Kanievsky knows it’s prayer and modesty; the Gerrer Rebbe knows it’s distancing oneself from the harms of technology.
I’m now going to try selling your insight in Bnei Brak: distancing oneself from the annual carnival in Meron and from idolatry (or perhaps one should say: worship of righteous figures) in general.
With God’s help, 38th day of the Omer, 5781
Man is not built on intellect alone. A person is made up of intellect and emotion, and he must cultivate both planes in parallel. An emotional world that does not find proper development in the direction of positive feelings finds itself abandoned to the rampaging of negative emotions—alienation, hatred, and anger.
This is the importance of pilgrimage, of which the ascent to Meron is but a reflection of a reflection. When one goes up to the holy site (to Zion, and to Meron under the aspect of “set up waymarks for yourself” 🙂), “with voice of song and thanksgiving, a festive multitude,” and at the head go dancing “the pious and men of deed,” the heart is filled with holy feelings, and from there one takes “the holy spirit, a generous spirit” into the gray routine of ordinary life.
Clearly the pilgrimage should be calm and unhurried, as the psalmist says in Psalm 42: “For I would pass through the throng, I would lead them to the house of God,” advancing slowly, heel to toe, and as was the case when the Ark was brought up to Jerusalem, where although David whirled and danced with all his might, the joyful procession halted every six paces to sacrifice an ox and a fatling, and care was taken in an orderly way to distribute to each participant “a cake of bread, a portion of meat, and a raisin cake.”
The ascents to Meron on Lag BaOmer and to the Western Wall on the three pilgrimage festivals accustom us to the days to come, when, as Isaiah 66 prophesied: “And it shall come to pass that from one new moon to another and from one Sabbath to another, all flesh shall come to worship before Me, says the Lord,” and as Zechariah 14 prophesied concerning all the nations who will come up to celebrate the festival of Sukkot in Jerusalem. And, with God’s help, to the extent that we are able to conduct the “dress rehearsal” successfully, so shall we draw closer to the realization of our heart’s desire and the vision of our prophets.
The foundation of foundations for the success of a mass gathering in turning into an unforgettable experience is order and organization—the prior preparation of the organizers together with the security and rescue forces. Preparation that will provide suitable space and room for each and every group to find the proper place and time to celebrate in the way appropriate for it. Preparation that will allow a proper flow of the celebrating crowd, with advance planning for where people enter and where they exit.
One may hope that the trauma of the disaster will lead to renewed thinking and careful, detailed planning of how all the organization and coordination are carried out, so that the mass celebration will remain an experience for all its participants—and then even a cold-blooded Londoner—in Yaron’s song 🙂
With blessings, Yaron Fish"l Ordner
A.
I’m sure I’m not the only one, but what mainly bothered me about London’s words was the timing and the manner. You may be right about his “bare” claim (or the expression of emotion), but there is a way to do such a thing.
When someone is suffering or in pain because his father died, you say to him, “I share in your grief.” This is despite the fact that it doesn’t really bother you that his father died at a ripe old age, and in fact it’s even convenient for you because now there is an obligation and you won’t have to dodge going up as prayer leader.
One should not treat this with disdain; there is a proper way to communicate, and a well-known journalist ought not express such feelings on a public platform just days after the disaster.
B.
You are right that the Haredim are the ones who in fact wanted and caused the alienation, and their anger is hypocritical. But a similar claim can be made about London himself.
Would London write such a thing if a disaster happened in the Shuafat refugee camp? I have no information on this, but I assume not.
I claim that the left sees the world as an international arena of unfortunates, and that the weaker someone is, the greater your obligation toward him. The Haredim are a group that deserves abundant pity from London and his friends; they are trapped in snares of ignorance and poverty and are “unaware of their own wretchedness” (don’t argue with me about this conception; in my opinion it is all gibberish). He walks on eggshells when it comes to Arab and Palestinian society, but does not trouble himself to show fake compassion toward the Haredim.
That is, it may be that the approach he took here is the more appropriate one, but I cannot help wondering whether he would have employed such insensitivity toward another group.
I’m cautious only because I do not know enough about London’s work, and therefore I cannot say definitively that there is a double standard and hypocrisy here, and that toward another sector in Israel he would have acted differently.
C.
There is a very interesting fit between people who are sure such events happen in order to “teach us a lesson” and people who see the orgies of holiness around Rabbi Shimon as something religiously worthy.
Therefore it is hard for me to believe that you will find someone who on the one hand criticizes the Meron celebration and on the other hand looks for hints.
There is an implicit assumption here that events always teach you that what you thought was bad indeed is so. It reminds me that immediately after the disaster they looked for culprits, and somehow everyone pinned the blame on those they hated anyway. The right decided it was the High Court; the left decided it was Bibi; and everyone agreed that the trusts had to be dismantled…
“Beyond that, Yaron London expressed an emotion and not a value-laden moral position.”
Yes and no. Because the emotion is a derivative of a position.
In this case, a position that does not recognize the existence (or the importance) of a Jewish people, regardless of the enormous cultural differences (“there is no difference between them and the Rwandans”). Such a position creates a feeling of alienation, whereas the opposite position creates feelings of solidarity.
And a position can be criticized (and alternatively one can also support it, but this is not only an emotional-psychological question).
And now a bit of practical action—
What happened could apparently have been avoided. The fact is that for many years already hundreds of thousands have come to Meron, and the event is etched in their consciousness as an experience.
The great advantage of an event that repeats every single year is that one can become very familiar with its dynamics and prepare accordingly. Whoever knows it knows that at such-and-such an hour the lighting by “Rabbi Aharlach” takes place, and many stream toward it. Since this stream is not an unforeseen development that came by surprise, one can prepare for it in advance and create a suitable exit opening.
A fixed event that recurs every year should have a permanent commander who is not replaced every few years, but rather specializes in it and in it alone, out of familiarity with the conditions and the people involved. Perhaps Commander Shimon Lavi would be suitable, whose name testifies that he is the great-grandson and grandson of Rabbi Shimon Lavi, author of the piyyut “Bar Yohai,” and in Commander Lavi too there has already been fulfilled, “You were anointed; happy are you, with the oil of joy above your fellows” 🙂
In any case, it is desirable that the commander of the event be permanent and not rotating, and thus the chances of its success will increase.
With blessings, Yifa"or
First of all, more power to you for the comprehensive treatment. As always, I read with enjoyment. Although, unlike your usual style, in this column you didn’t say anything new; your doctrine regarding going up to Rashbi is known, and your criticism of the Haredi public is also known. And you deserve great thanks for the courage to stand against the flood of nonsense washing over us.
But for some reason you continue to deny the antisemitic character of Yaron London’s post. Why do you ignore an entire paragraph in the post?
“To assuage the immediate sense of danger, the lack of distinguishing marks among the individuals in the picture of the masses contributed. They resembled one another the way the buffaloes resemble one another when they fall into the jaws of the crocodiles infesting the Mara River during the great migration season on the Serengeti plain. The herd in its tens of thousands charges toward the river, shoulder rubbing against shoulder. The buffaloes slide off the bank like a waterfall and cross the strip of brown water where crocodiles lie in wait, and the viewer does not distinguish one buffalo from another, and therefore does not become attached to any particular buffalo, unless the photographer chooses to focus on a struggling calf whose fate is sealed. If, say, one of those gathered in Meron had been wearing a red shirt, or a wide-brimmed cowboy hat, or had stood out because of his height, or had borne a pirate’s eyepatch over one of his two eyes, my soul might have clung to him in some way, but I felt no closeness to these featureless silhouettes, thousands of identical silhouettes moving in a uniform rhythm across the television screen. Why should I care if a few dozen of them fall like identical cardboard figures at a shooting range?”
London describes and likens Haredim to a herd of buffalo!
Is the assuaging of Mr. London’s sense of danger by imagining Haredi Jews as a herd of bulls each weighing half a ton not antisemitism?
I suggest a way for you to diagnose whether the image is antisemitic: delete the part about the buffalo, and read the post again. Suddenly it looks like just another post by a rude, washed-up person who enjoys saying “I told you so” on an inappropriate day. What turns the post into “something” is the description of a buffalo herd falling into the jaws of crocodiles.
The comparison to Liat Winder’s post is absurd. She is indeed patronizing (justifiably) toward the Haredim. She feels estrangement (understandably).
But they never for a moment lose their humanity in her eyes, even if she herself believes there is no decider and no purpose.
With the blessing, “And the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces”
There is a link in the body of my remarks (on the word “wonderful”).
Specifically regarding Rabin’s assassination, you are mistaken. It is an act that is the result of people’s choices. There are definitely moral and other lessons that can be learned from it (not from the mere fact that he died, but from the fact that he was murdered).
Paragraph 2, line 3
… since this stream is not an unforeseen development…
I guess she would have gone to the Chinese too, if they lived here. That is why I gave the example of Palestinians.
And regarding your actual point, you are arguing about facts and not values. It is true that we are all Jews, but London does not feel that this gives the Haredim priority over the Chinese. What is the claim against him? That is what he feels.
And regarding Liat, read carefully and you will see that you are completely mistaken. But my point was explained.
Yaron also feels sorrow, including over Rwanda.
This is a different discussion, and it has already been addressed at length in columns that dealt with Tanakh study and Hasidism.
I said that there is not really idolatry there, but rather something whose source is akin to idolatry (the pursuit of spirituality). I emphasized this.
When Michi writes a philosophical column, he looks like a philosopher. It may be that he truly is a philosopher; I am not sufficiently versed in philosophy to decide.
When Michi writes a Torah column, he looks like a Torah scholar. It may be that he truly is a Torah scholar; in my many sins, I am too insignificant to judge.
But—when Michi writes a journalistic/political column (like this one and the previous one), he appears in his natural dimensions: as a useful idiot, brainwashed (flooded with yellow fluid that lost its way), and hatred. To be sure, he is in good company. We have already heard of geniuses (real ones) in their field who were useful idiots in the service of Soviet Satan because of their ignorance of worldly affairs and their arrogance that their genius in their field testified to them in every other field as well (see Bertrand Russell, George Bernard Shaw, and others). So the phenomenon is not unusual.
What is unusual is the intensity of the self-hating antisemitic hatred wrapped in hollow slogans (some of my best friends…). Only a self-hater of Weininger’s type could defend Y.L.’s outpouring of morbid hatred on the grounds that “all in all” he authentically expressed his feelings.
In order not to descend into reductio ad Hitlerum, I will refrain from referring to a few paragraphs in the classic Mein Kampf (though it is very tempting), and instead I will refer to a lesser-known classic, Die Juden in Musik (“The Jews in Music”) by Richard Wagner (Hitler’s inspirational model, by his own testimony). In the first chapter, Wagner “authentically” expresses the feelings of disgust and revulsion he feels whenever he encounters the “Jewish essence,” and even goes to the trouble of explaining why. (That did not stop him from expressly demanding that his premieres be conducted precisely by the Jew Hermann Levi. Hatred is one thing and livelihood another.) Anyone who reads that chapter and then returns to Y.L.’s column and to this column by Michi will find it hard not to notice the same morbid common denominator. By the way, I would not be surprised if Michi defended Wagner too, on the grounds that he “all in all” authentically expressed his feelings.
When a human-like creature (Y.L., may his name be blotted out) publishes such a loathsome column within the shiva for those killed, it cannot be interpreted except as gloating, even if in his goodness he deigns to express sorrow “as over the deaths of Rwandans” (how sensitive of him). The comparison to Liat Winder’s column is foolish and demagogic (and others have already pointed this out). When Michi defends Y.L.’s hate-filled column, he publicly exposes the ugliness of his soul. This has absolutely nothing to do with criticism of Haredi society (I too have plenty of that commodity). It has to do with the image of God, which apparently has been lost to both of them.
For the sake of efficiency in the discussion, I suggest that anyone who wants to lash out—whether at Haredim, or at those who lash out at Haredim, whether at heretics or at naïve believers, whether at Michi or at the loathsome one, or at anyone—should first of all make a disclosure of what his sociological affiliation is (original and current). Usually that will spare us most of what follows, and certainly the schmaltzy pathos. For example, R. Mordechai here is almost certainly a Haredi intellectual, and the rest is self-explanatory.
I identify with the main thrust of Ron’s comments. Although I would not call it antisemitism, but rather simple degradation of the human being (by comparing Haredim to buffalo). And since contempt is a value judgment (accompanied by emotion), there is much more here than a mere factual description of what passes through London’s complex soul.
Especially since if the contempt were directed at the ideology or even the Haredi practice, fair enough—but here it seems to me that it is directed at the people themselves, including the miserable victims.
And the timing too is not appropriate from a “value” standpoint—after all, he could have written exactly the same thing in, say, a month, exactly the same opinion (which in his view is correct), but then it would have been much less like poking a finger in the eye.
You are factually mistaken (sorry—talking nonsense, so that I won’t come off too gentle and polite)
A. On the day of the Carmel disaster, I took part in a sublime Hasidic concert held at the Binyanei HaUma convention center, and the whole thing was converted into songs of emotion and sorrow in order to identify with the disaster.
B. When you speak about Haredim who do not contribute, you are making a crude generalization. And I’m not talking about the lack of manners (ugh, what a terrible concept) on your part and Yaron London’s, who compared the Haredim to a pack of animals in days when a little sensitivity is called for; I’m mainly talking intellectually. If the mainstream of the Haredim does not contribute, are they all therefore deserving of criticism? Even those who got degrees, work in senior positions, and contribute to the economy (among those who were crushed there were such people too). Does the white shirt and black hat erase the individual? Erase each person’s achievements and contributions? Are you supposed to feel alienation also from those who do contribute, and often do so with social sacrifice (as opposed to the average secular person), just because they adapted their dress code to Western culture?
Likewise, you wrote that the Haredim do not contribute in the field of health, whereas there are thousands of volunteers in dozens of emergency and medical aid organizations.
The feeling is that it was precisely you who wrote out of emotion, exactly as you wrote at the beginning of the article. Emotion can lead people to say stupid things. (That’s actually a correct point…)
P.S. I truly wonder why you adopt such an approach, since this way people are much less persuaded. As someone who talks about rationalism and intellectual decisions, wouldn’t you want your words to be accepted?
These things were explained in my column, and I do not understand what I am supposed to add. London, like me, has an interest in holding up a mirror to the Haredi public and making clear to it where it places the public around it. True, he does so in a forum Haredim usually do not read, and whoever chooses to be hurt—that’s his problem—but that is the reality. Yated Ne’eman will not publish his remarks.
In section C you repeated my argument. And you did not note that there is an internal contradiction here.
Not true. Even if a Jewish people exists (and I think London entirely agrees that it does, and even sees himself as part of it), the question is whether that obligates a certain mental state toward its members. London apparently holds that it does not.
Well, in your opinion they do not resemble a herd of buffalo. That was the feeling I had too. This has absolutely nothing to do with antisemitism. It is a factual description of them. You remind me of the Haredi MKs who think that anyone who does not include them in the coalition or does not pay them protection money is an antisemite who rejects them only because they are Haredi. There are substantive critiques that have nothing to do with antisemitism. Some people do not want them in the coalition because they disagree with them and do not want to fund them. And some criticize the herd that dresses and behaves the same way, not because of antisemitism but because it dresses and behaves the same way. That too is an option.
Mordechai, welcome. Long time no see. In the future I would be happy if you would base yourself on arguments as well and not only on classifications. Every so often you did that in the past, but there are cases in which you make a point of not doing so (while emitting supposedly minor passive-aggressive cries).
Yossi, with all due respect, I have no chance of ever persuading people who raise arguments like yours. These are vapid remarks that completely ignore things I already explained clearly. Fine—when the emotions subside, perhaps read it again.
And one more note, about reading comprehension. This column is not trying to persuade people not to be Haredi or not to love Haredim, but to think rationally and not emotionally. Therefore I am not striving toward the goal of persuading people against the Haredim, and thus the sharp style does not touch my purpose. Those who are willing to address arguments and not rage emotionally will be able to derive the necessary lesson and achievement from my words, and those who are not—in any case it would not help. Let them go on reading Yated Ne’eman and WALLA.
How does one really distinguish between a genuine need for manners and a slide into political correctness?
Is the distinction that when one wants to make a certain claim and refrains from it because of a felt need for manners, that is political correctness?
I can think of examples where it is clear that manners prevent making a claim—for example, when consoling mourners from a Meron victim’s family, to say to them: “I told you so” (which would have been on the tip of my tongue if I had gone to such a condolence call).
I cannot quite put my finger on the difference. Is using the word “kushi” impolite? I don’t know.
You wrote: “the question is whether it *obligates* a certain mental state toward its members. London apparently *holds* that it does not.”
And indeed, that is a matter of opinion and judgment—what the proper attitude toward members of your people ought to be. Is this a negligible population cut, or are these supposed to be relations of brotherhood (not like actual brothers, of course, but not like a stranger)?
And emotion is usually influenced by one’s stance (not only, of course, but also).
And that is also why people came out against him, because they inferred that he does not recognize the existence of the people or the importance of the relationships deriving from that bond.
Even if Yaron London thinks that way, this childish waving around of what he feels or does not feel shows cruelty and a desire to provoke.
And one more thing—it’s a bit ironic that you criticize someone for patronizing writing..
Oh, come on . . .
I’ll sum it up this way: until that response, you were talking nonsense on the London issue that only a Ph.D. could say. Now you’ve become just plain dense.
Michi,
I’d be interested to know where you draw the boundaries of rational discourse. What bothered me most about London (and about you) was the principle of degrading the human being as a human being when comparing him to an animal. As opposed to “degrading” the ideology or even the practice, which is legitimate. This simply isn’t logical (and by the way is morally flawed). I say this as a secular person who identifies with most of London’s words.
Suppose he had written that what went through his head while they were suffocating was that he was driving over them with a canister of Zyklon B. And adding to the party.
After all, if that had been the case, it would have been his factual report regarding the content of his thoughts. Would you support his self-testimony in such a case?
Even if the essence of the article was not about the Haredi way of life, there is no doubt that you would like to persuade people of the rightness of your doctrine, even if it is secondary to the main point of the article. Moreover, this way you miss the main point of the article, since people develop antagonism toward the whole thing. (As is well known, most of them are emotional and not calculated and rational like you.) You often manage to be right and not wise, although in this article you somehow missed both ends.
You did not respond to the argument at all. Time and again you tend to disparage the person making the argument instead of responding to the argument itself, and afterward preach against precisely that phenomenon.
I truly see no difference between racism toward Ethiopians, Mizrahim, and Circassians and racism toward Haredim, even though what holds them together at the base is some shared ideal (which is also not accurate at all, because a Satmar Hasid and a Chabad Hasid are by definition both under the same umbrella called “Haredim,” despite extreme gaps in agenda). To write generalizations in such a tone (“I won’t lie, there was in me a sense of gloating”)—beyond being disgusting and repulsive—contains all the ailments of racism. It causes unnecessary hatred, inflames passions, and widens the gaps between Haredim and the general public, and also indirectly blocks many Haredim from progressing because people place them in the same row as those who do not contribute, etc.
Of course I understood nothing, everything has already been answered, and I am a fool and do not understand.
My claim against London regarding the image of calves reminds you of Haredi MKs screaming “antisemite” from the podium over budgets? Who are you trying to fool?
This time, it shows.
There is a difference between someone who is patronizing, knows it, and says so, and someone who pretends not to be patronizing, yet between the lines patronization emerges. I imagine the criticism is of the hypocrisy or falsehood, not of the patronization.
With God’s help, 39th day of the Omer, 5781
To ease the burden in Meron, it could also help to allow going up to Meron at other times of the year, as mentioned in early sources collected in the articles of Prof. Meir Benayahu, “The customs of the kabbalists of Safed in Meron” (Sefer Tzfat = Sefunot 6) and “The ascent to Meron” (in Sefer Ze’ev Vilnai).
A disciple of the Ramban who visited the land at the beginning of the 14th century relates: “There all Israel and the Ishmaelites gather on Pesach Sheni and recite psalms there.”
A visitor from Candia (=Crete) who visited the land in the year 1473: “The Hebrews come on the three pilgrimage festivals to see the graves of the important righteous figures mentioned, and especially the grave of Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai, and they pray there with penitential prayers and supplications to God, blessed be He, that He give them water…”
The kabbalists of Safed came to Meron at various times in order to meditate upon the Book of the Zohar. They also came for the “mishmarah” prayer on the eve of the New Moon. The Ari, in whose time there was already a custom to come to Meron on Lag BaOmer, came to Meron with his household and sat there for three days.
In short: going up to Meron is good even “not in a time of pressure” 🙂
With blessings, Yifa"or
I saw many rabbis who came out against the craze for Meron following the disaster: Rabbi Arousi, Rabbi Yisrael Ariel, Rabbi Lior.
As I wrote—not so. One may certainly refrain from making an argument because of manners. The use of the word “kushi” is impolite if it hurts someone (and that is the situation today). One can protest the imperialism of offense, whereby every word becomes offensive, and decline to cooperate with it. But that is a question of manners. Political correctness is something else, and I defined it briefly in the column.
Again, not correct. This is not a matter of opinion or judgment but a factual question. What is your mental state? The claim that you ought to have mental state X is ridiculous. And criticism that your state is different is no less ridiculous.
A correct distinction. But beyond that, I did not criticize her for patronization. I pointed out that she too is patronizing, just as he is. And here is another patronizing statement of mine: reading comprehension is also an important thing.
Oh, and London’s desire to provoke does indeed exist, and is entirely understandable and entirely legitimate.
He did not compare any person to an animal. This is just ranting. He compared the appearance of the herd of Haredim to a herd of buffalo. That speaks about how they conduct themselves, not a statement that any of them is an animal. This is simply nonsense.
I would have had no principled problem if it were an expression of thoughts that passed through his mind and not support for such an act. Indeed, that is correct. True, such expression is hurtful, but if the background is that these are people selling Zyklon B in order to harm me, then there is definitely room to express it aloud.
Indeed. You answered yourself and saved me the trouble. When I see questions, I will try to answer. I did not notice any with you.
Excellent. So in the worldview of these rabbis there is no contradiction, only an error.
A lot of verbiage.
There is an explicit prohibition: “inquiring of the dead.” And everyone who goes up to Rashbi’s grave violates it.
But by the same token, anyone who agrees with and inquires into the words of Yaron London also violates “inquiring of the dead.”
But because anyone who turns to Yaron London’s words also violates “Do not turn to ghosts and familiar spirits,” it seems that his condition is worse than that of those who go up to Rashbi’s grave.
“He wrote the truth with noteworthy honesty… a description of the feelings of a liberal Israeli who feels alienated from the Haredim…
What is not self-evident here? What here is worthy of criticism? This is an authentic and honest description of feelings that many Israelis feel but do not dare say because of consideration for the Haredim…”
There’s just one thing I didn’t understand. What does it matter that it’s true and that someone feels it? There are many true things I don’t say, and if you need an example—I don’t tell someone I dislike, whose relative has died, that I’m glad for his misfortune. And I assume that if you saw someone saying that, you would not praise him for “honesty worthy of note.” In the same way, I don’t tell someone on the street that he’s ugly even if he really is ugly. Failure to share in the grief of families from your own people whose loved ones died in such a terrible disaster, or worse, gloating over their deaths, is certainly no virtue. And if someone nevertheless feels that way, he ought to examine his deeds and see how he has worked on himself such that next time he will not feel that way, and certainly not publish it—especially not at such a terrible moment.
All along it was fairly clear that the “moral system” based on whims that you advocate would lead you to statements and agreements of this kind.
The truth has come to light.
1. Hurting people’s feelings is immoral.
2. Not everything one feels needs to be told to everyone.
3. It would have been possible to convey the message—or as you called it, “to hold up a mirror to the Haredim”—gently, without hurting people. It also would have spared him an immoral act, and his words would have been better received.
To Wondering—greetings,
For exposing his savage hatred, to the point of gloating over a suffering public, Y.L. deserves great credit. The liberal left always adorns itself with the feathers of morality and sensitivity to human dignity and liberty. Y.L. stood up and revealed that there is neither morality nor sensitivity, neither human dignity nor liberty. He deserves a “Pulitzer Prize” for an important journalistic exposé! 🙂
With blessings, Feivish Lipa Sosnovitzki Dehary
igod uploaded a video in response to the disaster, calling on rabbis to stop this idolatry that costs human lives.
Go build a state…
I usually don’t comment here. It seems to me that if I were studying at Bar-Ilan we could talk a lot, but despite everything I disagree with you about, it’s impossible to really conduct serious discussions in writing, but I’ll try this time—it seems to me that there is a view, even a reasonable one, that sees a virtue in the ability of a person or a Jew to feel the pain of the public; the more whole a person is, the wider the circles for which this is true. That is, it is a moral trait. I’ll be honest—sadly, torrents of tears did not burst from me over the Meron disaster either, but the difference is in the word sadly. The difference is that Yaron London put an exclamation mark after that statement. I see this as a flaw, one that should be overcome, but certainly not flaunted. A parable from prayer (another institution you do not accept, but you will be able to understand the continuation): I can say that I do not manage to concentrate, explain exactly what in prayer today bothers me, but say it sadly, hoping I can improve; or I can smash the tools. It seems to me this is also the difference between London and the teacher in question—she experiences the dissonance, she does not deny her real feelings, but she understands that they are complex, flawed to some extent, and therefore she herself gives place to both movements—the distant honesty and the desire to grieve and identify.
I will try in the future to contribute question marks, if they are a barrier to understanding (!)
Here are my questions.
A. In your view, does the sharp, blunt, and aggressive style not cause people to develop antagonism, both toward the central argument with which the article deals and toward the other arguments that ostensibly you are trying to persuade them of between the lines? And if so, then as someone trying to influence others, would it not be preferable to soften your words so that they would be more readily accepted?
B. Would you use similar formulations toward Ethiopians?
Presumably you will claim that Ethiopians are not harmful, but I am speaking against the generalization and the enormous damage it directly causes to discourse and indirectly to the progress of Haredi society; after all, not all Haredim are non-contributors or harmful (question mark)
C. You separate manners from substantive arguments, but along the way trample every most basic rule of manners and write in an extremely insensitive way. Do manners in themselves have no value?
D. At the beginning of your remarks you explain that you enjoy arguments hiding behind cynicism; these questions were quite clear within what I said. Ah, wait—I’ll add: right?
There is another no less serious problem (in my humble opinion…), namely the very relating to the musings of empty and reckless people like London and the like…
One can perhaps understand them, that for the sake of a livelihood they will say and do anything that increases the accursed ratings, but what has a clear Torah scholar to do with the sites and screens of filth that constantly poison the public atmosphere…
At least there is no reference to the nonsense (according to rumor) of Rebbetzin L. Griner, may she live and be well…
It has already been explained several times.
It has already been explained several times over.
How many times can one repeat and explain?! There is a virtue in sharing in the pain of the public if you feel you belong to it. But even if you do feel you belong, there is no virtue in feeling it. Feelings are facts.
I have a surprise for you: adding question marks also does not turn assertions into questions.
1. In my view, no. At least not for those to whom I am speaking. I already explained this.
2. Certainly, if my feelings toward them were similar. You answered that yourself.
3. I write in a super-sensitive way.
4. Here too there is no question.
That’s it. I will no longer answer such trolling.
In my opinion, he is neither reckless nor empty, and his words here were sensible words worth addressing. In general, I examine the statements and not the speaker.
What annoys me most is the incessant comparison between Lag BaOmer in Meron and a trance festival. It annoys me because that’s what I answered a secular guy a few years ago when he asked me why I go to Meron. I told him (after one year when I had a bit of fun in Meron) that I go because it’s the craziest festival there is—and with holiness on top of it!!! Today, after a few years, I answer myself: listen… it’s been a long time since you were at a good party…
There’s no one like you, Rabbi Michi.
All true, except for the word “holiness.” It is exactly the same thing.
It may be that part of Y.L.’s hatred also stems from his jealousy. He grew up on the insight that the secular leftist is the “salt of the earth,” progressive, enlightened, and successful, whereas the religious and the right-wing are backward and primitive and will soon disappear from the horizon.
To their dismay, the national, traditional, religious, and Haredi public only keeps growing, both in number and in political influence. Not only have we not disappeared from the horizon, but we have also “stolen the state from them.” From this comes their hatred of Netanyahu as well, who represents the dark “Jews” who stole the state from the enlightened “Israelis.”
And when the “state-stealers” also win empathy and participation in their grief—that is already more than the robbed “Israeli” can bear 🙂
As Kishon said: “Sorry we won.” 🙂
With blessings, Primi Tivi
Nice that you managed to answer these non-questions. Personally, I have been persuaded by you more than once, and this sort of expression makes me think there is an emotional motive here, which makes it very hard to relate substantively to your arguments.
It is really not sensitive to share in the gloating you felt over the deaths of 45 people. It is bizarre to me that this is even a topic for discussion.
It’s somewhat reminiscent of Leibowitzian childishness, unable to see the complexity in phenomena and in a person. Either pure commandment or idolatry—there are no shades in between.
You are mature and wise.
It’s not the same at all. The music is a downer, everyone’s dressed wrong for a party, crowded! Really crowded! Lag BaOmer in Meron is a nightmare under the guise of “holiness”; it doesn’t even come close to a trance festival. A trance party is fun. It’s calm and pleasant. There’s good music, and wine that gladdens the human heart. Here you go.
I really have to expand on this gloating, even if you see it as trolling. It simply gives me no rest.
A. If you do not agree with the feeling and agree that it is terrible, why do you share it? Never mind that it’s quite unpleasant to hear such a shared feeling about death; after all, you are explaining here precisely why emotions have no real value, so what happened that you publicly spread problematic emotions in such a way? Is an emotion and desire to rape a girl also worthy of sharing, or of treatment instead?
B. If you justify that gloating, how do you not see a problem in the generalization? How can one feel gloating even toward good people who contribute to others, who were there among them?
With God’s help, 39th day of the Omer, 5781
And alongside the terrible pain over the 45 precious souls who perished in the disaster, the descriptions of them raise up a wondrous list of people full of love of Torah and love of humanity, fear of Heaven together with joy in life, elevated people from all communities and all circles, Ashkenazim with Sephardim, Haredim with members of the religious Zionist camp, who joined together in the joy of Torah, “for it is our strength and our light.”
May their noble lives be a lamp to our feet, and from them let us learn to straighten our paths in awe, love, joy, and brotherhood, as King David said: “And to me, how precious are Your thoughts, O God; how vast is the sum of them” (Psalms 139).
In tears and in hope, Amiyoz Yaron Shnitzla"r
1. Too bad you don’t study Tanakh. If you had gotten to the book of Job, you would learn that blaming the mourner for his misfortune is not desirable in the eyes of God.
True, for most people this is self-evident, but you in particular might have learned a few new things there.
2. There is a big difference between saying that there is a reason we do not know and saying emphatically that this happened by the natural course of things and there is no message from the Holy One, blessed be He, to us here. The difference is that one who takes the first path will be stirred to ask himself what he can improve. He will probably arrive at things he already thought about and not something wholly new, but perhaps he will still make progress in something. Someone who thinks everything happens by natural processes will not be stirred to introspection by any event.
3. God does not want to teach us anything; He only wants to enable us to learn.
And yet, Meron…
As someone who is quite repelled by going up to Meron, etc., I found myself reflecting on the matter.
In my opinion, despite my personal inclination, going up to Meron still has importance. The path you present in your books and on the site is not suitable for a large public; it is a very aristocratic path.
A large public also needs culture and cannot rely on intellectual clarifications and the like. Going up to Meron gives people cultural and experiential value, and from their perspective it gives them a push in mitzvah observance (in practice, many people who went up to Meron testified to me to that effect), and that at least from the people’s own point of view gives added value. It should be noted that emotion is just emotion and perhaps should have less significance, but in practice it acts and influences people a great deal, and therefore it must be managed wisely, especially if people see it as a significant part of the service of God; and even if it is not truly so, it still affects their whole attitude toward Torah and mitzvot.
Even if you are right, this returns us to the issue of noble lies: is there justification for inventing and lying to yourself and to others in order to strengthen one’s service of God?
With God’s help, 38 [= not dry] of the Omer, 5781
To RMDA—greetings,
What does a “noble lie” have to do with serving God emotionally and experientially? Is what strengthens a person’s connection to his Creator, Heaven forbid, a “lie”? Did not Maimonides teach us that the joy with which a person rejoices in performing the commandments is a major principle, and did not King David say: “Serve the Lord with joy; come before Him with singing”?
David learned this secret from the great counselor who taught him: “In the house of God we walked with feeling,” and for this teaching David held him in esteem and called him: “my guide and my familiar friend.” Perhaps the angel Michael, who is a “separate intellect,” can serve God without the need for emotional strengthening—but King David, who aspired to bequeath the Torah to all strata of the people, understood that the Torah must be imparted also with the aid of emotion, experience, and joy.
With blessings, Amiyoz Yaron Shnitzla"r
In the date
… the night after the 38th [= not dry] of the Omer…
There may perhaps be a kernel of truth in Y.L.’s words, namely what he calls “agoraphobia,” the revulsion from the crowd. There is something coarse in a crowd. Externality stands in a certain tension with inwardness. Not for nothing did Michal daughter of Saul recoil from David’s mixing in the rejoicing with “the maidservants of his servants.”
But one whose spiritual world is truly illuminated by the esoteric dimension knows how to see through the coarse mass exterior to the noble inwardness hidden within. This is David’s way, capable of discerning in the “maidservants” the “matriarchs.” One who cannot connect to the inwardness of the masses—perhaps it is indeed better that he keep away from the crowd.
With blessings, Yaron Fish"l Ordner
Wow… you mixed in “philosophy” with the emotions too, no different from Wagner. Fine, not Wagner—Schopenhauer? Heidegger? Do they still study Heidegger at Hebrew University? Better, Mordechai, that you be a moral nihilist. Good too that you didn’t mention Leibowitz and his “Judeo-Nazis”… and to season it all nicely with the word “antisemitism.”
Arguments? Were there “arguments” in your last two columns? Absolutely not. There were inferior rhetorical tricks seasoned with a great deal of condescension, arrogance, and contempt for anyone who does not bow and prostrate himself before the glory of your rationality. See, for example, what you wrote in your last response above me: “He did not compare any person to an animal. This is just ranting. He compared the appearance of the herd of Haredim to a herd of buffalo. That speaks about how they conduct themselves, not a statement that any of them is an animal. This is simply nonsense.”
With exactly such “arguments” Wagner explains the feelings of revulsion that arise in him when he encounters the “Jewish essence” (until that “Jewish essence” is needed by him in order to sell his works, as noted above), and if it is nevertheless permitted to refer to Mein Kampf, its author repeatedly describes there the appearance of the Jews he saw in Vienna (he never spoke with any of them) and laments the bitter fate of the southern part of the city, “which became increasingly polluted” by the Jews who settled there, etc. etc. So these two great men of the world did not compare Jews to animals (only Goebbels did that in his infamous films). They “only” compared the appearance of a herd of Jews, etc., etc. So you ask for “arguments” when you yourself are nothing but Wagner with a beard? (Actually, he too was bearded…).
And if I have already burdened myself to answer (indeed—why?…), I will add something more.
The first book of yours that I read was God Plays with Dice, and although while reading it questions arose in me (afterward I found that I had independently arrived at the views of some of your critics, who also raised points I had not thought of), I enjoyed reading it and got a taste for more. I went on to read a few more of your books until I reached the trilogy, where I sobered up and understood that you had led me astray by guile and deceit. In those books, and especially in the third (which in my opinion is far more terrible than the second, which for some reason absorbed most of the public criticism), you blatantly contradict quite a bit of what you wrote in your previous books, yet do not trouble yourself even to mention this, and certainly not to explain what caused you to change your mind (or alternatively why there is no contradiction here). How did the pure logic in Enosh KeChatzir, for example, where you explained why polynormativity is impossible, turn in the third book of the trilogy into a double commitment to halakhah and democracy, etc. (to the point that commitment to democracy may at times even override commitment to halakhah)? I realized that you are not at all the pure logician you present yourself as, but a rhetorical juggler who, like Leibowitz in his time, exploits the relative weakness of his admirers (groupies, in the vernacular). Nor is it hard to discern the tendency and goal toward which you are striving, though this is not the place to elaborate.
I stopped commenting on this site because unlike you, for whom activity on this site is apparently a large part of your daily routine (and that is perfectly fine), I have other occupations, and sparring with you took from me precious time that I afterward lacked for those occupations. But I did not take upon myself a vow and oath never to comment again, and I am happy that others have arisen in my stead who from time to time apply the teaching of Rabbi Yitzchak Hutner and stick pins into the inflated balloon—you, our master. May they be blessed from Heaven.
And about that it is said: one does not deal with fools.
The distortion in this view is the attribution of mass-mindedness to a particular sector. In every sector there are people who think and delve more, and others less. The notion that whoever thinks differently from you does not think at all—is a great distortion.
With blessings, Yifa"or
Regarding your statement—Rabbi Abergil reached the same conclusion as you— https://www.inn.co.il/news/491356
If the rabbi agrees, I would like the rabbi to write in an orderly fashion a treatment of the question of responsibility in the case of the Meron disaster. Are the participants considered people who harmed themselves? Do the various authorities bear some degree of responsibility?
And another general point: recently there have been many heavy moral questions involving literal life-and-death issues, such as changes in informed-consent procedures following which some members of the Helsinki Committee resigned, the corona decrees (why is the blood or livelihood of the market vendor less red than the blood and livelihood of the clerk in the tax authority? Is it permissible to harm part of a population that is not at risk for the sake of a population that is at risk?), and now the Meron disaster.
So many substantive decisions were made without proper moral discussion.
Instead of Torah scholars taking up the gauntlet and conducting a serious discussion of the questions, what I mainly saw was a massive folding by rabbis and alignment with the position of the state’s decisions.
Perhaps the rabbi will turn over one of the stones that for the moment no one is turning over?
Mordechai, perhaps you could at least hint at what you meant in the sentence “it is not hard to discern the tendency and goal toward which you are striving”? Thanks.
As best I recall, in the corona controversy there was no substantive engagement with the position of those opposed to the mainstream view, and there was even scorn expressed at their very audacity in going against the prevailing conception…
But a more principled question—is relating to the words of the reckless London (see Google for what he himself says about himself) indeed for the sake of seeking the truth and publicizing it, or is there here, as with the reckless one and his friends, merely an attempt to increase ratings and nothing more?
Because in my feeling, bringing up the musings of the reckless one at such a time and in such a formulation contributes no positive value; it mainly causes anger.
Does the end justify the means?
Is it proper, for the sake of raising a point for discussion (important as it may be), to provoke a provocation?
In brief, people who come to an event assume that if it was approved, then it meets standards. This is a covenant between a citizen and his state. The state certainly sinned in not ensuring the safety standards (who in the state is another question). Therefore, fundamentally, responsibility lies with the state. To be sure, there is also a matter of common sense behavior when one sees a dangerous place, and indeed we heard of people who were there and fled out of fear of danger.
But there is no room for this discussion, because your question is not defined. What does “who is responsible?” mean? You need to define for what purpose the discussion is taking place: are they suing the state? Is the state suing them? Are they suing an insurance company? Suing one another?
Terms like “folding” carry a critical connotation, and that is merely your gloss. There is not necessarily folding here, but recognition that the responsibility and authority are in the hands of the state. A rabbi may say what in his opinion should be done, but the one who decides (according to halakhah as well) is the state. Take as an example Rabbi Kanievsky, who did not “fold” and set the norms for his community by himself. In doing so he brought about the deaths of a great many people, both within that community and outside it. So did he act properly? He did not “fold,” did he?
I identify very strongly with what was said. And as a woman, my soul too has had enough of the exhausting intensity of the tasks: “Urgent! Forty women for separating challah” (by the way, in Vizhnitz they are already selling dough for separating challah), “Psalms now, don’t be lazy! Which chapters are you taking?”
Beyond commitments that do not always materialize, forgetfulness, constraints—it happens to everyone (breaking a vow..?), I ask: why specifically these tasks? What is wrong with one aliyah in the weekly Torah portion with Rashi? Two pages of Nehama Leibowitz? Half a page with Schottenstein..? (whatever our meager education allows),
My dear sisters, why not upgrade a little? Might that not achieve the same goal, and perhaps even more than that?
1. You are right that I did not formulate a precise question. The precise question is—what is the law in a case where the injured parties sue the state?
2. You are right; indeed there is criticism here, but not because of the halakhic ruling. I did not take a position regarding the bottom line of the ruling. The criticism is that decisions are made without moral discussion. For example, before the expulsion from Gush Katif there was an in-depth discussion among rabbis of stature regarding the relevant halakhic questions (the definition of the commandment to settle the Land of Israel, refusal of orders, the authority of the state). On the topics I mentioned, almost no discussion took place at all, and therefore the criticism. Are all the decisions made by the state self-evident? I wonder. In that respect the criticism applies to everyone, including Rabbi Kanievsky.
But on the other hand, regarding the sentence: “It is much more satisfying and uplifting to separate challah while mumbling… and then not acknowledge that it did not help in any way. No drop of tears and exalted mumbling ever returns empty, as is well known.”
Is it really so that mumbling and prayer cannot help? I know your view that the Holy One, blessed be He, does not intervene in His world, but man does intervene. Hence—might prayer (and even mumbling), study, and the like not bring a person to insights, ideas, morality—to that correct essence, which if he grasps it, he has an influence?
The comparison between Yaron and Liat doesn’t even get off the ground. That is exactly the criticism: many are killed in a terrible disaster, citizens who share with you an identity and nationality (though not the same values), and you write that to you it is worth less than the peel of a clove of garlic, call them obvious terms of abuse, and then accuse them that in their audacity they caused you to feel sorrow. So utterly the opposite of Liat, who feels their pain and makes an effort to feel part of it. The justified criticism of Yaron is that he is not empathetic, even if he very much wants to believe that he is. He is empathetic only toward those who are identical to him. That is not empathy. Even animals grieve for their young. Empathy is participating in the suffering of the other.
I think the main justified criticism of you, Rabbi Michi, and of Yaron London is not about the indifference but about the gloating. That is the essential point. As others here have written, the problem was that he sort of danced on the blood, which really is something one ought not do. Even if the Haredim sin against him (and against you), he should have said (to himself), “Neither the sin nor its punishment.” The real problem is that he does not understand that there is a shared fate among Jews. This is not a matter of some cheap nationalist romanticism or mere feelings. It is not emotion. It is intellect. Zionism is built on that. Even if the Haredim do not understand this (and they do), the Zionists who founded the state certainly understood that no one in the world would help Jews in their distress except themselves. They grasped the matter of shared Jewish fate (which is really something metaphysical—it doesn’t matter how much Jews try not to live as a people, the nations see them as a people and as not belonging among them).
After all, that is exactly what the verse means: “Do not rejoice when your enemy falls… lest the Lord see it and it displease Him and He turn away His wrath from him.” And I heard (or perhaps I imagine it) that some explained this to mean that He will remove His wrath from him and place it upon you. Granted, you do not believe in providence, but in your place (and certainly in Yaron’s place) I would be a little more fearful for the fate of my family in light of even the slightest possibility (according to your view) that the Holy One still does intervene in the world. Otherwise this is a sort of hardness of heart like Pharaoh’s.
And Job’s companions did not even gloat over his evil; they only tried to tell him he was to blame for his condition (out of concern for their orderly and clear worldview, lest it be shaken). This is worse.
I didn’t see it. Where?
1. If the state was supposed to ensure standards, then they can certainly sue it. What need is there here for a Torah discussion? This is a legal question, not a Torah one.
2. The discussion does not take place because the state is not especially interested in what rabbis think on various issues.
Whoever wants to arrive at insights should think, not mumble.
This reminds me of something my late father used to say to our Haredi relatives who were busy looking for segulot for livelihood: there is one proven segulah for livelihood—go to work. Proven and tested.
And I was also reminded of the story of Rabbi Shlomo Kluger, rabbi of Brody and its district, to whom two people from a village near Brody came to ask a difficult halakhic question. He thought and thought and reached no conclusion. They went on their way, and the next day returned to him and told him that the village’s young rabbi had answered them quite quickly. Rabbi Shlomo was amazed that such a Torah scholar and genius lived near him and he had not heard of him. He summoned him to his house and asked how he had done it. The man answered: Listen, Your Honor the Rabbi. When those people came to me, I didn’t know what to answer. I went into the room and tearfully prayed to the Holy One to help me. Immediately my eyes fell on a book that stood out on one of the shelves; I took it out and opened it exactly to the responsum that answered this question, and so I answered them. Rabbi Shlomo Kluger threw him down the stairs and said to him: go home. I thought you knew how to learn, but it turns out you only know how to howl. This is one of the Mitnagdic stories (in the mold of Hasidic tales).
Where not? In the column itself and in the comments. Bringing the matter out into the open was not intended to hurt but to hold up a mirror to that society. See the work of your own hands. You separate yourselves ideologically, study in separate institutions, separate parties, separate workplaces, separate colleges, do not contribute and do exploit, and now you think there will be empathy toward you from us? He also did not go to a mourner to say this but wrote it on a general public platform that typical Haredim do not usually even see. There is no problem with this at all. On the contrary, a thing said in its proper time is good. In short, not only are the things true, but writing them is also useful.
An analogy would be sharing in the Palestinians’ disaster of the Nakba. If I were to write that I have no empathy for the victims of that disaster, that would be true and also fittingly said. The same applies here.
Could I please have a link to Liat Winder's remarks? I couldn't find them.