Paradoxes and Contradictions in Halakha, Lecture 4
This transcript was produced automatically using artificial intelligence. There may be inaccuracies in the transcribed content and in speaker identification.
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Table of Contents
- Dichotomies, contradictions, and paradoxes as methodology
- Organ transplants and determining the moment of death
- Kessef Mishneh, the Jerusalem Talmud in Terumot, and Maimonides in Laws of the Foundations of the Torah chapter 5
- Binarity, continuity, and the computer example
- Evolution, creationism, and neo-Darwinism
- The fallacy of the argument versus the falsity of the conclusion, and accumulation of evidence
- Religious Zionism, Haredi Judaism, and the “hyphen”
- Hallel, flags, nationalism, and personal feelings
- Attacking the assumption that “everything is religious” and the domain of the mundane
- Leisure, neglect of Torah study, and Haredi rationalizations
- Maimonides and Duties of the Heart on neutrality
- Hebrew law, religious value, and the coherence of the legal system
- The “Handels” ruling, the Foundations of Law Act, and the question of a lacuna
- Animal suffering, Vigoda’s opinion, and the confusion between “Hebrew law” and “Jewish law”
- The conversion controversy and illusory correlations
- Post-Zionism, shattering myths, and distinguishing facts from values
- Myth, midrash, and allegorical interpretation
- Right and left as illusory correlations between moral and political positions
Summary
General Overview
The lecturer wants to wrap up the section on dichotomies through biographical examples that show how heated debates are often presented as if there are only two possibilities, even though that picture can be broken apart. He presents two main techniques for dissolving a dichotomy: seeing that the phenomenon is not really binary, and identifying the assumption shared by both sides and attacking it in order to generate additional options. Along the way, subsidiary discussions arise about the boundaries of Jewish law versus the mundane, illusory correlations between different positions, and the distinction between arguing over a practical conclusion and demonstrating a form of logical thinking.
Dichotomies, Contradictions, and Paradoxes as Methodology
The lecturer describes a personal tendency: when he sees a heated argument between two sides, he tends not to agree with either of them, and so he asks how one can break out of the dichotomous picture. He says the lecture is meant to finish the topic of dichotomies before moving on to paradoxes and loops. He emphasizes that the goal is a form of logical thinking, not a halakhic or political ruling on the examples themselves, and that merely raising a third option does not require identifying with it.
Organ Transplants and Determining the Moment of Death
The lecturer describes the usual dichotomy in the discussion of organ harvesting between brain death and cardiac death: if the moment of death is brain death, then the donor is already dead, and if the moment of death is cardiac death, then the donor is alive and it is forbidden to kill him in order to save someone else. He proposes a third option in which the discussion is not binary, dead/alive, such as an intermediate state or a formulation in which the person is alive but the value of his life is lower, and therefore a different halakhic possibility arises. He attacks the assumption shared by both sides, namely that it is always forbidden to harm one living person in order to save another, and he brings from the Talmud the reasoning “What makes you think your blood is redder?” as a basis for asking whether the prohibition depends on comparing the value of lives. He adds that even if one person’s “blood is redder,” there are still questions about consent, about the prohibition of suicide, and about the dispute among halakhic decisors over whether one may place oneself in possible danger to save someone else who is in certain danger.
Kessef Mishneh, the Jerusalem Talmud in Terumot, and Maimonides in Laws of the Foundations of the Torah chapter 5
The lecturer brings the Jerusalem Talmud in Terumot, cited by Maimonides, about a city besieged by gentiles who demand, “Give us one of you,” where it is forbidden to hand over a person even if otherwise they will kill everyone, unless he was liable to death by the kingdom, and even there there are disputes. He presents the commentators’ difficulty: why don’t we say here that in any case that person will die along with everyone else, and therefore there would seem to be a consideration of saving the many. He says Kessef Mishneh suggests that the reason of “What makes you think?” is not a real reason but merely something said “to give a reason,” and presents this as the result of not having a satisfactory answer. He proposes an alternative answer, according to which the passage belongs to the laws of desecration and sanctification of God’s name, not to the laws of preserving life, and he mentions the story of Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi and Elijah the Prophet concerning handing over someone liable to death by the kingdom, and the distinction between halakhic permission and an act of piety.
Binarity, Continuity, and the Computer Example
The lecturer and participants discuss the claim that there is almost no true binarity in the world, and bring the example of computers, where “zero and one” are a language that maps a continuous analog world onto practical thresholds. He parallels this to the question of whether “half alive” is just another way of saying “a lower value of life,” and emphasizes that every everyday concept is vulnerable to attacks of the sorites paradox type. He says the technique is not merely “attack everything,” but rather to be aware of the assumptions and thresholds that turn a continuum into a dichotomy.
Evolution, Creationism, and Neo-Darwinism
The lecturer presents the common dichotomy between creationists and neo-Darwinians, in which each side assumes that one cannot both be a believer and accept evolution. He cites, in the name of Rabbi Wolf, the slogan “Science is false and our Torah is true” as a description of a dichotomous view with no third option. He argues that there is no logical contradiction between neo-Darwinism and belief in God when we are talking about belief in God at the level Dawkins deals with, not about reconciling the verses of Genesis. He locates the possible point of contact only with respect to proofs for God’s existence, especially Kant’s physico-theological proof in its “argument from design/complexity” versions, which apparently rests on the assumption that a complex thing does not arise by itself, and evolution undermines that assumption.
The Fallacy of the Argument Versus the Falsity of the Conclusion, and Accumulation of Evidence
The lecturer distinguishes between knocking down an argument and refuting the conclusion, and argues that even if evolution undermines the physico-theological proof, that does not mean the conclusion “there is no God” is correct, only that the proof is invalid. He adds that this proof is only one among several, and therefore there is no necessary connection between accepting evolution and rejecting belief. In an argument with a participant, he objects to framing this as “probabilistic weight” in the sense that losing one proof directly lowers the probability, and compares it to two geometrical proofs that do not become “weight” just because one is disqualified. He says that someone who came to belief solely through the physico-theological proof may change his position because of evolution, but that is a private case, not a principled dichotomy.
Religious Zionism, Haredi Judaism, and the “Hyphen”
The lecturer presents a common dichotomy in the religious world between “religious-Zionist” and “not religious-Zionist,” and argues that the real question is the meaning of the “hyphen” between Zionism and religiosity. He quotes Yosef Burg of blessed memory as saying that “a religious Zionist means the hyphen,” and develops the possibility of being Zionist and religious without a hyphen, in which Zionism is not derived from religiosity and does not necessarily take on religious markers. He takes seriously the story of the rabbi from Ponevezh, Rabbi Kahaneman, who raised a flag on the roof but did not say Hallel on Independence Day, with the statement “I am a Zionist like Ben-Gurion,” and argues that this suggests a third option that is neither Religious Zionism nor anti-Zionist Haredi Judaism.
Hallel, Flags, Nationalism, and Personal Feelings
The lecturer says that he himself says Hallel even if his Zionism is not religious, just as one says the blessing “Who formed man with wisdom” over a human bodily process that is not “religious” in itself, because giving thanks to the Holy One, blessed be He, can apply to human interests. He distinguishes between national symbols in the synagogue space and recognition of the value of sovereignty, and expresses a feeling of revulsion toward flags inside the synagogue and toward the flag-dancing in Jerusalem, which to him feels like provocative nationalism. He emphasizes that these are feelings, not an absolute normative ruling, and notes that Neturei Karta also operate from within a religious “hyphen,” only on the anti-Zionist side.
Attacking the Assumption that “Everything is Religious” and the Domain of the Mundane
The lecturer identifies, as a shared assumption of both Religious Zionism and Haredi Judaism, the imperialistic view that religion judges every domain and that there is no neutrality. He quotes the phrase “There is no place devoid of Him” and applies it to Torah as well, so that every question is supposed to be decided religiously and therefore referred to a rabbi. He brings a line of thought associated with Rabbi Lichtenstein, according to which the mundane is not value-neutrality, but there is still a domain of the mundane in which Jewish law does not provide a formal ruling, even though moral values may still be relevant. He recounts that he asked Rabbi Lichtenstein whether everything has a halakhic statement, and says that Lichtenstein was angry at religious political parties that do not ask rabbis at all, even though in such cases it is advice rather than a ruling, alongside recognition that there are also neutral things, such as choosing between foods in the morning.
Leisure, Neglect of Torah Study, and Haredi Rationalizations
The lecturer argues that parts of the Haredi world need a halakhic rationalization even for leisure, such as “you need to rest in order to learn better afterward,” and that this reflects a refusal to recognize the legitimacy of a simple human desire to enjoy oneself in reasonable measure. He presents the possibility of living “like a normal human being” alongside making an effort in Torah study, and mentions discussions among later authorities about the contradictions between tractates Berakhot and Menachot around Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai and Rabbi Yishmael. He formulates a theological criticism of a view according to which the world was created only “to test us so that we won’t make use of it,” and contrasts this with a view that the Holy One, blessed be He, created a world that one is also allowed to enjoy within proper proportions.
Maimonides and Duties of the Heart on Neutrality
The lecturer notes that people sometimes cite a dispute between Maimonides and Duties of the Heart over whether there is a neutral domain. He says Duties of the Heart writes that nothing is neutral, and cites Maimonides in his commentary on the Mishnah to Avot chapter 1, where he divides speech into five kinds, including a neutral category. He qualifies this by saying that Maimonides may mean speech that is not bad in itself, though engaging in it may still be problematic because of neglect of Torah study, and therefore he is not sure the source proves the claim in full.
Hebrew Law, Religious Value, and the Coherence of the Legal System
The lecturer presents a dichotomy according to which religious people are supposed to support introducing Hebrew law into state law and secular people are supposed to oppose it, and argues that this is an illusory correlation with four possibilities rather than two. He says he wrote an article arguing that there is no religious value in integrating Hebrew law into state law, and notes that the concept of “Hebrew law” was invented by secular people for reasons of heritage and tradition and was enthusiastically embraced in religious circles. He cites Aharon Barak, who argued that such integration creates an incoherent system because the two systems rest on different foundational assumptions, and illustrates this through the laws of bailees, where the oath is a central component that does not function in a civil system in which many people do not believe, and so the same structure of obligations cannot be based on it.
The “Handels” Ruling, the Foundations of Law Act, and the Question of a Lacuna
The lecturer describes the case of lost property in the Kupat Am bank and the question of who counts as “the finder” when the lost item was found on the bank’s premises and the owners could not be identified, against the background of a law that after four months the lost object passes to the finder. He describes how Menachem Elon argued that there is a lacuna in the law and therefore one should turn to the heritage of Israel / Hebrew law through the Foundations of Law Act and use the Mishnah about a money-changer and the distinction between “outside the table” and “inside the table.” He presents the position of Barak and his colleagues, who denied the existence of a lacuna and also had reservations about the very integration on grounds of coherence, and notes that he himself wrote an article focusing on what the ruling reflects about conceptions of returning lost property.
Animal Suffering, Vigoda’s Opinion, and the Confusion Between “Hebrew Law” and “Jewish Law”
The lecturer mentions the High Court case on force-feeding geese and Michael Vigoda’s opinion, which brought sources from Jewish law to sketch the boundaries of animal suffering, and says that the label “Hebrew law” in that context is misleading because this is a matter of prohibitions and permissions, not civil law. He says he would be happy to incorporate a halakhic moral outlook into state law in such cases, but qualifies that in many sources we are dealing with the reasoning of halakhic decisors such as Chatam Sofer and Rashba, which is not a “binding canonical line” but rather judgment. He argues that in the end, the justification for incorporating something into state law must be moral-civic, not “because it is written in the Shulchan Arukh,” and that if something religious is immoral, he opposes imposing it by force, because a religious act has no value without being done out of faith and responsiveness to command.
The Conversion Controversy and Illusory Correlations
The lecturer describes the conversion controversy around the conversions of Rabbi Druckman and Rabbi Sherman as a picture in which the Zionist camp supports and the Haredi camp opposes, and argues that this illustrates illusory correlations. He says that there are “many very independent questions” there that got bundled into one package, in which one side answers “yes” to everything and the other side “no” to everything, whereas one could give mixed answers to each question on its own merits.
Post-Zionism, Shattering Myths, and Distinguishing Facts from Values
The lecturer presents a dichotomy between enthusiastic Zionists who oppose post-Zionist historians and anti-Zionists who support them, and argues that one can be an enthusiastic Zionist and still accept the shattering of historical myths, such as claims about Trumpeldor or about the expulsion of Arabs. He argues that it is not necessary for a value-position to be derived from historical facts, and that one can educate around a myth as a value-framework even if, on the scholarly level, one concludes that the event did not occur. He compares this to discussions of allegorical interpretations of canonical texts and mentions the dispute between Rashba and Yedaya HaPenini, as well as Rashba’s letter of ban against studying philosophy before age 25.
Myth, Midrash, and Allegorical Interpretation
The lecturer argues that one can be committed to the values learned from the stories of the patriarchs even without commitment to their having occurred historically, and distinguishes between a “lie” and a “myth” as an educational story. He notes that many people would see this as a grave matter even with respect to midrash, but from his perspective, on the logical level, it need not be disturbing. He uses comparisons to the world of mythology to illustrate the possibility of education and deriving value without making a historical claim.
Right and Left as Illusory Correlations Between Moral and Political Positions
The lecturer concludes with a general example of illusory correlations in political discourse, such as identifying the “right” with cruelty and enthusiasm for wars, and the “left” with principled opposition to force even when force is necessary. He argues that one can be a right-wing person who is deeply concerned about the suffering of innocents and at the same time opposes any territorial compromise, and that there is no logical contradiction in that. He rejects the claim that this is psychologically impossible as a way of life, and argues that one can live with both things together without a problem.
Full Transcript
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What we want to do today is go through a few examples just to see the application of these ideas. Today I hope to finish this, to finish this section. We talked about dichotomous conflicts and contradictions or paradoxes. So we’ll finish that, and after that in the next lecture I’ll move on to paradoxes and then to loops and all kinds of things like that. But today we’ll finish with the matter of dichotomies. Okay, there are several contexts, as I said at the beginning of this series, where usually when I see a heated debate between two sides, I find myself agreeing with neither of them. And that was really the motivation to start asking how you break down dichotomies, yes, how you move beyond the dichotomous picture. So today I’ll bring a few examples simply from my own biography, meaning things in which I experienced this phenomenon. All right, one example we already talked about is organ transplantation, so I won’t go over it again. I’ll just remind you that basically it’s customary to think that the debate is about determining the moment of death, because I’m talking about harvesting organs between brain death and cardiac death. There are organs that can only be harvested then; after cardiac death it’s already lost, like the heart, lungs, and so on, and of course before brain death that’s impossible because you’d be killing the person, so that’s obviously not relevant. So what remains is the interval between brain death and cardiac death. So there’s a dispute: some say it’s permitted, some say it’s forbidden. What’s the dispute? The dispute is over what the moment of death is. If the moment of death is brain death, which comes before cardiac death, then if the moment of death is brain death, between brain death and cardiac death the donor is already dead. Not the donor—rather, in that interval between brain death and cardiac death, the donor is already dead. So the moment I remove his heart, I haven’t killed him, because he was already dead. So I can take his heart and transplant it into someone else, and with God’s help that person will live. On the other hand, if I understand the moment of death to be cardiac death, then before cardiac death, in that interval between the two moments, the person is considered alive, and if I take his heart then I am killing him, I am killing a living person. You’re not allowed to kill Reuven in order to save Shimon. So for that reason it’s forbidden, and that’s the accepted framing. The whole debate basically revolves around the question of what the moment of death is. And again I asked myself: something here didn’t seem logical to me. Then I asked myself, wait a second, maybe there’s also a third option. Who says it’s only either he’s dead or he’s alive? Maybe there’s a third option. Now of course, with that third option, we can apply all the tools we talked about, but at least two of them naturally apply. One is that maybe it isn’t really binary, dead or alive. Maybe there’s something that’s half dead, or a little dead, or not completely dead. Or, in another formulation—and I say you can formulate this either way, but it’s pretty similar overall—I said another technique is to look for the assumption shared by both sides of the dichotomy and try to attack it. Then additional options can emerge. In this case, the shared assumption is that it is forbidden to take a living person and kill him in order to save someone else. Everyone agrees on that. Now the dispute is over whether the person is alive or not, right? But everyone agrees on the halakhic assumption, the normative one, that you can’t harm a living person in order to save someone else, kill a living person in order to save someone else. But really it’s worth checking that. Who says that’s true? When we go back to the Talmud, the Talmud says: why is it forbidden to kill one person in order to save another—saving oneself at the cost of another’s life, one must be killed rather than transgress. Why? “What makes you think your blood is redder? Perhaps that man’s blood is redder.” Fine, you can’t know; your blood has no priority over his. Okay, but if that’s so, then maybe in a situation where one person’s blood really is redder than the other’s, then maybe it would be allowed? If the whole reasoning for why you can’t kill one person to save another is that the value of their lives is equal, or that I have no indication that there’s any difference in the value of their lives, then in a place where I do see a difference, there might be permission. Now when you get into more details, I’d say that this permission exists only if he agrees—even then, despite the difference, only if he agrees. I mean, even if he agrees, it’s still not trivial. You’re not allowed to agree to commit suicide, or agree to be killed, or kill yourself in order to save someone else. That too is forbidden. According to almost all halakhic decisors. There are some—like I mentioned in the name of the Jerusalem Talmud—that say one may place oneself in possible danger in order to save someone else’s certain life, but even on that point almost all halakhic decisors disagree. So therefore in a situation like this, it could be that if the value of the recipient’s life is truly higher than the value of the donor’s life, then even assuming he is alive, maybe one could take his heart in order to save the other, because what he loses is a life of lower value and what the other gains is a life of full value. And in such a situation you can’t say, “What makes you think your blood is redder?” because yes—your blood really is redder. Now again, I’m not getting into all the arguments we already had about the slippery slope and all that; I’m only trying to show the form of logical thinking. It doesn’t matter to me right now whether you agree or disagree with the bottom line. There’s still much more to discuss here. But I’m saying that on the principled level, this is a demonstration of the fact that when we present a dichotomy to ourselves—and ask any halakhic decisor, ask anyone who thinks about this question—they’ll tell you there are only two possibilities. No more. The dispute is only over whether the person is alive or dead. And then I say: what do you mean? Let’s look for a moment at the shared assumption. The shared assumption is that if he’s alive, then of course it’s forbidden. The only question is whether he’s alive or dead. And that’s not true. It could be that even if he’s alive, it’s permitted. At the very least, it definitely opens up a third possibility that should be considered. Either you accept it or you don’t, but here’s an example of applying this logic of attacking the shared assumption in order to produce a third path.
[Speaker C] Yes, but why—why is there a shared assumption? Because everyone understood that this matter of one person’s blood being redder is basically just an example of something that doesn’t exist. Who said? What? Who said? No, because you’re taking seriously the idea of blood being redder. Right. But they brought it as an example of something—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —that doesn’t exist.
[Speaker C] That’s why there’s the assumption.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] I’m not expecting you to agree right now with what I’m saying. I’m expecting you to see that there’s also a third option. Now it may be that in the end you’ll say, true, but I don’t identify with the third option. I have no problem with that. I’m not talking right now about the halakhic question of what to do. For me this is just an example of the form of logic, this form of thinking. In this form of thinking, suddenly we see more options emerging that in the discussion—no, no—in the discussion they present you with either/or: either you’re with us or, unfortunately, against us. Right? That’s always how dichotomies work: are you with us or with our enemies. And I’m saying no, I’m neither with us nor with our enemies. There’s a third option. Now in this case I also happen to agree with the third option, but that’s a different discussion. As far as I’m concerned, our topic right now is the logic, not organ transplantation.
[Speaker C] No, but I’m with you. Okay. I’m just saying that in your case—and maybe in all cases—not everybody is stupid. If there are—wait, you’re saying yes, roughly. No, if there are two assumptions that 100% of people support, then apparently a third option doesn’t exist. Who says? So here I’m giving you an example.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] You’re being very generous to people, and I’m giving you—
[Speaker C] —an example not that they’re—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] —stupid, but that they don’t see other options.
[Speaker C] It’s not always the case that when people argue, one of them is stupid.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, and it’s also not always the case that one of them is right.
[Speaker C] No, the whole world agrees, as you just said, that either he’s alive or he’s dead. Right. Suddenly you bring in another option. So it could be that every time there’s this kind of argument, that assumption that there’s something third—maybe here I’m saying from the outset it doesn’t exist because they brought it as—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, that’s what they say, but I’m saying that when you present the possibilities to a third person, say, to another person, you need to lay out all the possibilities before him. Now let him decide what he identifies with. It may be that he won’t identify with the third option. I have no problem with that. But I’m saying that this logic enables us to generate possibilities that at first glance don’t seem to exist. It’s another question whether I agree with them or not. The two sides certainly don’t agree with this. Okay, I know that. Some of the sides thought about it and don’t agree. I’m not saying everyone is stupid. I’m just saying it’s worth thinking in this way because it presents—more options emerge, in other words, it surfaces more options. Okay? Then think about whether you agree with it or not.
[Speaker B] Why not take seriously the reasoning behind the matter of why—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, so that’s already an argument—
[Speaker B] But to make it into a joke?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that’s already an argument on the merits. But again, what matters to me is the logic. I don’t care right now about the example.
[Speaker B] And it’s not on the merits; it’s about the technique that says when there are two contradictory opinions, I want to examine the reasons behind the opinion. Right. And take that reasoning and try—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s what I said. It’s just that what you’re saying is fine, but I don’t agree, because—or maybe I don’t agree, or the disputants don’t agree—because they don’t take that reasoning seriously. By the way, Kessef Mishneh also doesn’t take it seriously. I think I mentioned this Kessef Mishneh. Kessef Mishneh writes that “What makes you think your blood is redder?” is just something said in order to give a reason, it’s not a real reason. He says this about the Jerusalem Talmud. There’s a Jerusalem Talmud in Terumot that’s brought by Maimonides in Laws of the Foundations of the Torah, chapter 5, about a city besieged by gentiles who say, “Give us one of you.” And it says there in the Jerusalem Talmud that you may not hand anyone over even if they will kill all of us. They say that if you don’t hand someone over, they’ll kill all of you. You may not hand over one person even if they kill all of us. Unless he was liable to death by the kingdom—and even about that there are disputes. But in the ordinary case, an ordinary, normal, reasonable person—not a criminal, nothing—you may not hand him over. Why? Big question: why? Because, as everyone asks, including Kessef Mishneh and all the commentators on Maimonides, many ask this indeed—after all, why is it forbidden? In principle, the reason you may not kill one to save another is “What makes you think?” Your blood is no better than his. But here, he’ll die with us anyway. If we don’t hand him over, they’ll kill everyone. So in any case he’ll die. No, I’m assuming that let’s say for sure we all die. Kessef Mishneh really wants to say, well maybe nevertheless he’ll survive; you can’t be 100% certain. So these are strained explanations, because after all we’re talking about hypothetical cases. So in hypothetical cases I’m talking at the level of values. Meaning: in such a hypothetical situation, where it’s clear that all of us will die. And straightforwardly, it says in the Jerusalem Talmud and following it in Maimonides that it is forbidden to hand over a person. Now that doesn’t fit the test of “What makes you think your blood is redder?” If that were really the reasoning, then in fact one should hand him over, because in any case he’ll die. So his blood is definitely less red than ours. We can be saved. So first of all we see that Kessef Mishneh says that if you take the reasoning seriously, then there really is room for these kinds of considerations. Here’s someone who in any case is going to die; his blood is less red, even though right now he’s alive. What he would lose is only a short span of life. Fine, a short span of life is less red than a full life. But he really doesn’t accept that, as Martei said, because then he says something extremely forced that there is no reason to say, and therefore I don’t take that seriously. What Kessef Mishneh says there is that really there is another reason: the Sages had an accepted principle that you don’t kill one person in order to save the others even in a place where “What makes you think your blood is redder?” does not apply. And what the Talmud said, “What makes you think your blood is redder?” was only in order to give a reason or something like that. Where did that come from? It’s just—fine, he says it because he has no answer. But there is a good answer, so there’s no need to say that. As I said once, I think—I don’t remember where—the answer is that this belongs to the laws of desecration and sanctification of God’s name, not to the laws of preserving life. In other words, because of sanctifying God’s name, in that context they are not willing for Jews to hand someone over to death even in order to save themselves. So this belongs only to the laws of sanctifying God’s name, not to the laws of preserving life.
[Speaker E] If they say his name specifically, then it is permitted? What? If he’s specified by name?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, even then not. Only if he is liable to death by the kingdom. And even then it says that an act of piety is not to hand him over. Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi met Elijah the Prophet after he did this, and Elijah said, I’m not willing to speak with you at all because you did it, because an act of piety is that even when there is a name, and even when he is liable to death by the kingdom—not just when there is a name and the king says, “I want him, and if you don’t give him to me”—even then, an act of piety is not to hand him over. But then Jewish law does permit it; it’s just that an act of piety does not.
[Speaker E] So that shows there’s something to Kessef Mishneh. If Jewish law allows it, that means that—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, because there, when he is liable to death by the kingdom, then it’s not a desecration of God’s name. The law of the kingdom is law; he is liable to death by the kingdom. That’s something else. Fine? The king is allowed to kill—that’s the assumption of the Jewish law of the Sages. Okay.
[Speaker F] Rabbi, I accept this thesis, but still—there is nothing binary in the world.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What is there not?
[Speaker F] Nothing that is binary in the world, meaning one or zero. Okay.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Even—
[Speaker F] In computers too, where it’s one and zero, it’s five volts and zero. Exactly. Two and a half volts is neither zero nor one. I can always attack any point—it doesn’t have to be—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s exactly what I’m saying, right. I’ll bring an example here.
[Speaker F] But then I’m not talking about computers.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Meaning—
[Speaker F] Zero and one are a language. Okay. So five volts is one; two and a half is not. Okay.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Now in computers there isn’t two and a half, there’s zero or one.
[Speaker F] Right. If I come and say to them, what do you mean, there is two and a half—obviously if you come and say to me, listen, true, there is two and a half, we know that too.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] From our standpoint, zero is anything less than five. What is two and a half? Zero is not zero volts—
[Speaker F] Zero is anything less than five volts. That’s why I say this, because I can always say, what do you mean zero or one, there’s always something in between. Obviously. And it’s as if everything can be attacked, meaning this isn’t some—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] All the digitization we do in computers, the transition from analog to digital, is exactly for this reason.
[Speaker F] To eliminate the continuum.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Because in real life, in analog life, there isn’t—
[Speaker F] zero or one; it’s a continuum.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] So you set it at five volts and go far enough, either zero or ten, so that it won’t be in the gray zone at all, and then you can relax that it works with zero and one. But in life it doesn’t work that way.
[Speaker F] And that’s why I’m saying that in life there are no dichotomies at all; it’s not that you need to refute them.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, that’s why I say—but you need to be aware of the technique. We talked about the sorites paradox, and how in fact every everyday concept is exposed to attacks exactly like this.
[Speaker F] What bothered me was that when you come and say, it’s as if this option of two and a half—we know about it, but it’s not part of the game for us.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] That’s the first option I thought of—that maybe he’s only half alive. That’s the option. Here I spoke in another language, even though I said it’s pretty similar. In another language I said: no, he’s fully alive, but the value of his life is lower, and therefore it yields before the other life, which is worth more. Now each time we could say: what does lower value of life mean? It means he’s half alive. You can translate these two languages into each other.
[Speaker F] Does everyone agree about that moment—just not to get into this topic—but does everyone agree that “the moment of death,” I mean, that this thing called brain death—does everyone agree that that’s what it’s called? Is that a consensus?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no. What kind of consensus? There are medical criteria—
[Speaker F] Medical ones that are—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] this or that—which have been accepted in the medical community. Certainly. Right, in the medical community these criteria were accepted, and let’s say for the sake of discussion that if these criteria are met, then the person has no functions of a living human being and also never comes back. Almost never comes back. But that’s what is established there according to those standards. I spoke with doctors and also read material—no exception is known. Meaning, there isn’t any case. There was, I said, something in Denmark about a year ago or something like that, and even about that there were claims. I don’t know what the final result was; they set up some investigating committee—whether there was just a mistake in evaluating the measures or whether the measures themselves do not reflect it. That’s very important.
[Speaker G] How many minutes were the exceptions? What? How many minutes were the exceptions? What? Cases of brain death where they came back?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Yes, I don’t know. Doctors say no. It may be that one of the criteria is actually the length of time. Could be. But it doesn’t matter.
[Speaker H] If they are met—what? It could be you were too stringent. If there wasn’t even one exception and the criterion is excellent, that means they built in some extra margin. Yes, yes, obviously. So that’s also not okay because—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, but what can you do? You can’t know. Now the question is what to do in cases of doubt.
[Speaker H] Doesn’t matter. At least then. At least then, fine, but the dispute could be about before that.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, so that “before” I don’t know how to solve.
[Speaker H] First let’s finish with this, afterward we’ll talk about that.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Okay, so we need to think about that separately. But I’m saying that on the principled level, the logic I’m presenting at least works beyond that range.
[Speaker E] And there it doesn’t change either.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Now again, there are also rules of doubt. I’m saying, if he is doubtfully dead and fully alive, maybe “a doubt does not override a certainty” also applies? You can also work with the rules of doubt, but it doesn’t matter to me. I only want to present the logic, that’s less important. Okay, that’s organ donation. I’m saying, we already talked about this and argued about it. I’m only mentioning it as a good example of dissolving the dichotomy. A second example is evolution. We also talked about that in one of the previous years, I no longer remember exactly, not very long ago I think, about the argument between creationists and neo-Darwinians. Yes, where there too there is some sort of agreement that either you’re with us or against us. Right? If you’re a believer, then you’re not allowed to accept evolution, and if you’re a neo-Darwinian, then you’re not allowed to be a believer, or at least it’s inconsistent to be a believer. Okay? And this is agreed by both sides. Again, it’s agreed by both sides. The dispute is over which of these two incompatible sides you choose. These choose creationism and those choose neo-Darwinism. Yes, like Wolf opens his book—Rabbi Wolf, so someone told me, I haven’t seen it inside—saying, “Science is false and our Torah is true.” A declaration, yes. Huh? Yitzhak Chaim? Rabbi Wolf from the seminary in Tel Aviv. Yes. Well then, another one of the jewels of wisdom. In any case, the assumption is—but really this Wolfian assumption says either science is false and our Torah is true, or our Torah is false and science is true. There is no third option. So again, this is basically some kind of dichotomy, and at least with respect to evolution, I think we’ve already loosened up regarding many things. But regarding evolution, somehow—at least in the broader layers of the public—it’s still perceived that way. On both sides. The whole world. Yes, both among atheists and among believers. Meaning, on both sides it is perceived in this way. And about that I already spoke at length, so again I won’t elaborate; I only want to bring it as an example, because here too it is simply not true. Simply not true. This assumption that there must be a contradiction is not correct.
[Speaker F] I don’t think even he thinks that way. Who is “he”? Rabbi Wolf.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Ah, I don’t know.
[Speaker F] He probably has some other motives.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It could be. Yes, it could be that he doesn’t think at all—“thought is false and our Torah is true.” Fine, in any case, the point here, when you do some kind of analysis—I’m reminding you again, because we talked about this over several meetings—there is really no obstacle… I’m talking about God not in the sense of the biblical God, the seven days of creation, and all the apologetics about how that fits with evolution. I’m talking at the level of belief in God, at the level Dawkins deals with. Okay? Not at the level of what to do with Scripture, but belief in God itself. For now that’s enough for me to illustrate the point. So basically he says—what does that really mean? Where does the contradiction actually arise? Why do people really think there’s a contradiction? There’s no contradiction at all. Why can’t you say that the world came into being, life came into being, through an evolutionary process, but there is God? And not only that there is God in general, but that there is a God who created life—He just did it through the laws of evolution. What’s the problem? Why can’t you say that? So first of all, you can. Of course you can. What makes people think there’s a dichotomy here? Basically one thing: at one point there is indeed contact, or conflicting contact, and that is when we examine the proofs for God’s existence. The various proofs for God’s existence—at least one of them—is what Kant calls the physico-theological proof. And the physico-theological proof has several formulations; it’s a type of proof, not just one proof. It’s a whole family of proofs: the argument from design, the argument from complexity—there are different arguments under that heading. So let’s take the argument from complexity. The argument from complexity says: the world is complex; a complex thing does not arise by itself; it needs someone to create it—if you like, this is the second law of thermodynamics—and therefore, if this complex world exists, then apparently there is someone who created it, and that proves the existence of God. That’s, very schematically, the physico-theological proof. Now here, if I adopt the neo-Darwinian picture, then look—you see that complex things can arise on their own without the involvement of an external factor. So that pulls the rug out from under one of the assumptions of the physico-theological proof. Every proof is an argument; an argument is built on assumptions, and from those assumptions I derive the conclusion. One of the assumptions is that a complex thing cannot arise by chance. That is the central assumption of the physico-theological proof, okay? Evolution attacks that proof, that assumption, because evolution offers a model—or even confirms it, in the sense that there are findings showing it is true, not just a theoretical model—according to which a complex thing can indeed arise without the involvement of a directing hand, without the involvement of an external factor. So that seemingly collapses—if you accept it—the assumption on which the physico-theological proof is built. Now in my book I deal with this issue. First I clarify this point, and then I say: first of all, fine, let’s say this proof has fallen. So what? Does that mean its conclusion is false? It means the argument is not valid. No—when you knock down an argument, you say either the argument is invalid, or the argument may be valid but one of its assumptions is false. Fine. But that only means you can’t prove the conclusion on the basis of those assumptions. Does that mean the conclusion is false? It says nothing. It could be true or not; it only means you can’t use this proof. More than that: the physico-theological proof is only one out of several. So even if we refuted this argument, there may be other arguments—examine them on their own merits—but evolution has nothing to do with them in any way. You can argue about them, but how much
[Speaker H] weight do you place on this proof?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, I’m just saying—
[Speaker H] that if the weight of it was what tipped the scale, then maybe now you’ve reversed the…
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, someone who comes to belief in God—
[Speaker H] reversed it, because if you have a doubt and there are sides to the doubt—yes, right—because if you have a doubt and there are different sides, but there’s a probability built from different cumulative proofs, then it’s not—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] black and white, no—
[Speaker H] no, no—if I say—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Again, if a person—I’ll say it briefly—if the person arrives at his belief only because of the physico-theological argument, then obviously he’ll stop being a believer.
[Speaker H] No, it’s a probability.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] It’s not a probability of anything. I have another proof. True, this proof fell—so what’s the problem?
[Speaker H] It’s not nothing—it doesn’t say nothing.
[Speaker E] Because the proof that fell, when we talk about the plausibility of—
[Speaker H] something—when you think about the plausibility of something, it accumulates for you.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no—that’s exactly where you’re mistaken. Not true—you’re wrong. I’ll tell you why. Because these are not weight-based proofs; they are logical proofs.
[Speaker H] Yes, but when I—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Suppose I have two proofs that the sum of the angles in a triangle is one hundred and eighty degrees, and in one of them the teacher found a mistake and told me: that’s wrong. So what does that mean? That I have another proof that is good.
[Speaker H] I’ll give you an example from your own examples. You talked about the logical proof, the ontological proof, or whatever—the proof that is itself hard to understand why it isn’t, why it isn’t correct.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] The ontological proof, right?
[Speaker H] Now that’s an amazing logical proof, right? But you can’t say why it’s not correct.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, I’m talking about proofs that I do know what to say about.
[Speaker H] Fine, but life is made up of more than just reasoning. No, again, I want—no—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] There’s something here I completely disagree with you about. This is not a matter—obviously in matters of weight there is significance to arguments that are not decisive. Why not decisive? Why not? What I’m saying here is something else. Here you removed one proof from the arena, but you didn’t bring any argument against the existence of God. All you said is that one argument is wrong. Fine, accepted—I took it out of the toolbox. So what? You still haven’t said anything at all about why to say there is no God.
[Speaker H] There are arguments. The arguments against aren’t arguments for saying there is no God; it’s just that the default is not to say that there is a God.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly. So that’s why I say evolution does nothing. It could be that for yourself you don’t think there is a God, and then because of the proof you were forced—and then this prevents that—fine. That’s why I say: at the principled level there is no contradiction. There is no logical contradiction between neo-Darwinism and belief in God—none. Someone who reaches the conclusion that there is a God only by virtue of the physico-theological proof, and otherwise he would think there isn’t—then yes, evolution can definitely change his position. I agree. But those are very, very specific people. Most people do not arrive at belief from there. One of the criticisms of Anselm’s ontological proof is exactly this: that he prays to the Holy One, blessed be He, at the beginning of his formulation of the proof. Right—so everyone said, wait a second, you haven’t even proven His existence yet and you’re already praying to Him? I already said that this criticism is foolish and shows a lack of understanding. Right. But that’s not what matters to me here. Rather, you see that a person believes not because of the proof he found. He believes for all kinds of other reasons—he has that kind of intuition, tradition, whatever; each person and the decisions that lead him to believe.
[Speaker H] And then the strongest creationists—they’re not arguing because of that; maybe they argue because they already believe and this attacks them—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Or because it contradicts what is written. But that’s not an attack—that’s what I’m saying. No, no—I’m talking about belief in God; I’m not talking about the Torah. I said explicitly that I’m focusing on that. As someone with a position, with all the things included in it—
[Speaker H] Fine—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] But if I believe in God, and that doesn’t come from the physico-theological proof, then evolution has nothing to say to me. That’s all.
[Speaker H] And likewise the other way around—and someone who believes in—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] And someone who doesn’t believe in God—it’s not because of evolution, but because he doesn’t believe in God, and that’s fine, that’s a possible position. But it’s not connected to evolution. Evolution has nothing to say about this issue. I think even more than that: I think evolution even strengthens the physico-theological proof a little—but that’s already another discussion. Here too I’m talking about a certain dichotomy, but here this dichotomy is not even about attacking some assumption. You can present it as an attack on an assumption shared by both sides, but that’s naive—it’s simply nonsense. They’re just mistaken, that’s all. Here it’s not even true. But the fact is that a great many people—including scholars and intelligent people—live with this feeling that it’s either this or that, from both sides. Meaning, the fact that this dichotomy has some impact on human thinking means they really do grasp it as one of two options. Fine. People were quite shocked, in the responses I got to the book, that I dare say that evolution might be correct and that I have no problem with that. It should be checked scientifically, but I have no problem with it. People thought that was itself a statement of heresy. Never mind the reasons and the… I’m saying that even if there are good reasons—even if it is heresy, then I’m a heretic. And I say, leave it alone—it isn’t even heresy. It’s just not true. Okay, so that’s the dichotomy. A third example: Religious Zionism and Haredi Judaism—the famous hyphen. Fine. Usually we’re used to thinking that if you already belong to the religious camp, then you have two options before you. What else could there be? Either to be Zionist or not to be Zionist. Either you are a Religious Zionist or you are not a Religious Zionist, right? What else could there be? That seems like a perfect dichotomy. And therefore a person has to decide whether he is with us or against us. Again, a dichotomy, right? Now that’s true: when you present it that way, then obviously either you’re Zionist or you’re not—there is no third possibility, no other option apparently. But the question is what counts as non-Zionist and what counts as Zionist, and there I said: this is the question of the hyphen. When I say that “Religious Zionist” means, as Yosef Burg of blessed memory said, that Religious Zionist means the hyphen—not the Zionism and not the religiosity, but the hyphen between them. That is what is called Religious Zionist. Here this opens up all kinds of options. You can be many kinds of Zionist and religious. You can be Religious Zionist with a hyphen—what does that mean? That your Zionism is connected to your religiosity; for you, being Zionist is a religious principle. And maybe there are also those who would say that being religious is a Zionist principle—I don’t know, there are probably such people too. But you can also be Zionist and be religious without a hyphen between them. I’m Zionist—as I once brought the story, I think, in “Two Holding a Garment,” maybe. I said everything in “Two Holding a Garment,” so it’s not… What? No, but more things… I no longer know what I said and what I didn’t; after ten years you can’t remember. The Rabbi of Ponevezh once said that he—yes—he put a flag on the roof of the yeshiva, Rabbi Kahaneman, yes, and he did not recite Hallel on Independence Day. They asked him, what is this? If you’re Zionist, say Hallel; if you’re not Zionist, don’t put up a flag. So he said: I’m Zionist like Ben-Gurion. Ben-Gurion put up a flag and didn’t say Hallel; I also put up a flag and don’t say Hallel. Now everyone sees that as a joke, and in Bnei Brak they wave this around in such a… people are so proud of the wit of the Rabbi of Ponevezh. It’s so ridiculous, because they don’t think about what he said. Because he said something completely serious. It’s not a joke at all in my reading. I even tried a bit to check, and I think this is the correct reading. He really was Zionist like Ben-Gurion. He was secular-Zionist; he was not a Zionist with a hyphen to religiosity. Meaning, he was Zionist like Ben-Gurion. He has a universal dimension—he is also a human being beyond being religious—and on that plane he is Zionist, just as every secular Jew who is Zionist has his own motivations. Besides that, as a religious person, he is also religious. But the Zionism is not connected to his religiosity. So Hallel he doesn’t say, because Hallel is a religious expression of his Zionism. But the flag he flies exactly like Ben-Gurion. Now that really is what he said, and it’s so funny because all those who quote this are shooting themselves in the foot. They don’t understand at all what he is saying. They think he is joking at the expense of Religious Zionism. He’s not joking. He is simply proposing a third option, which stands both against Religious Zionism with the hyphen and equally against anti-Zionist Haredi Judaism. Because being Haredi doesn’t have to mean being anti-Zionist. Right, it’s the same thing: there is a third option. It can be without a hyphen, that’s all. Right? What?
[Speaker B] Did he actually coin these terms, this side and that side? Why do people say Hallel—why?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no, I’m saying—I, for example, think like the Rabbi of Ponevezh: my Zionism is not religious. I do say Hallel. Precisely for that reason. Fine, but he decided not to give it expression in religious symbols.
[Speaker E] Why do you say
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Hallel?
[Speaker B] To the Lord, the Holy One, blessed be He—I’m happy
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] about it. I’m happy as a human being, not as a religious Jew—but fine. And over breakfast don’t I say Grace after Meals? I thank the Holy One, blessed be He. Breakfast is not a religious thing. He helped me live as a human being, so I say thank You. That’s all. Very simple.
[Speaker E] Zionism is
[Speaker B] help
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] to me, in a place where the halakhic conditions exist, and a miracle happened for many people, there was salvation for many people, and something very significant happened here overall for everyone—so you say Hallel. What’s the problem? I completely identify with that, and it has nothing at all to do with the question of the hyphen. There’s no connection. Hallel is a religious expression, yes—but a religious expression. We have religious expressions for secular aspects of life too. Even after going to the bathroom, you say Asher Yatzar. So what—does that mean that going to the bathroom has some kind of religious value? No. But I thank the Holy One, blessed be He, who made me with openings and cavities, and none of them was blocked or ruptured. That’s all. What’s the problem? It’s gratitude for something that is a human interest of mine, not a religious interest. So too my Zionism is a human interest—or a value, or an interest, however you want to call it—human, not religious, and I thank the Holy One, blessed be He, that we succeeded in realizing it. That’s all. So on this point I don’t agree with the Rabbi of Ponevezh, but again, I’m only bringing examples here for the logic; I’m not entering the actual debates themselves. And I think maybe he also wanted to say something; he was a public figure too. What I want means nothing to anyone. As a public figure, perhaps he had some consideration that he did not want to give these things religious expression, because the moment he gives them religious expression, people will immediately connect it to the religious world, and maybe that is what he didn’t want. And there is a certain logic to that. I already told you: when I see a flag in a synagogue, I get a fever. A flag doesn’t belong in a synagogue. In general, flags don’t speak to me; that whole thing is a bit tainted, but fine. Put it on the house, on the car, I don’t know where. The synagogue—it has nothing to do with the synagogue. You’re Zionist, fine. You’re religious, also fine.
[Speaker B] But the synagogue as a public building—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no—inside the synagogue, where people are standing with flags, not hanging it outside, yes? As a public building that’s fine. Didn’t he raise the flag over the yeshiva? Why not?
[Speaker H] Half the prayer is built on this—that a state should be built. Not half the prayer, but a lot of the prayer itself is about reestablishing the Jewish state, not only the monarchy.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Fine, but I don’t think that was established.
[Speaker H] You’re right, but that doesn’t contradict it. You say it’s some kind of nationalism—it’s very relevant.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, I’m saying again—feelings.
[Speaker B] I think there’s also the option—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Feelings. I—
[Speaker H] I’m not saying it’s done right; I’m saying it’s not—
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] done right—but certainly done right, because my feeling very often is that it really expresses some kind of nationalism that is problematic in my eyes. It could have been otherwise. Someone could have come and put a flag there in the same way that he prays for the establishment of a state, so he also thanks for the establishment of a state. My feeling is that it’s more than that. I said the same thing about the flag dances. Once I went with a friend of mine who taught with me in Yeruham, one of the other teachers—we went to the flag dance in Jerusalem. I was there once; more than that I won’t be there again, vow or no vow. I was there—it was awful. It was awful in my eyes. There was a disgusting nationalist feeling, really disgusting. And again, I’m not some beautiful-soul leftist, absolutely not. But there was something there that really repelled me—the dancing with those flags over the heads of the Arabs just in order to show them. And again, I have no problem with the fact that sovereignty needs to be shown and one needs to be forceful and one needs to go up to the Temple Mount, and all that is true. But there was a feeling of problematic nationalism there.
[Speaker H] But to rejoice in it, you understand?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, rejoicing is fine. You can rejoice. But there is some kind of provocative joy here. It’s not joy that comes to express feelings of happiness.
[Speaker E] Again, feelings—I’m saying it’s not the level of that, but it’s really not like that.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] What I saw there was exactly like that. It really aroused difficult feelings in me. Because among us leftists that’s stage one—I started rebuking myself.
[Speaker F] People who are your exact opposite, the Neturei Karta crowd, recite Psalms every day in synagogue, and on Independence Day they happened to recite Hallel—different chapters.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] They are careful to tear the flag in an anti-nationalist way, yes. So that too is the same thing in the synagogue. Because their opposition, by the way, is exactly like that, because their opposition to Zionism is a religious opposition. Meaning, their ideological thesis is also connected to the religious world—there too there is a hyphen, certainly, absolutely. And that is exactly the point, which is why I connect this as well to dissolving dichotomies. What is really the root of dissolving the dichotomy here? What do the two sides share that I am attacking? Here too it is the same thing. On both sides there is a hyphen. What… what does that hyphen actually say? Let’s formulate it for a moment. That on both sides there is only religion. Exactly. That’s the point. Both sides agree that there are no secular aspects to life. None. A religious person is something imperialistic. Meaning, his whole life is supposed to be judged through religious lenses. For better or worse. Either you oppose or you agree. There is no such thing as being neutral. Jewish law, or Judaism, is not supposed to be neutral about anything. Everything is either a commandment or a transgression or I don’t know what. Jewish law is full of things that are permitted to do—I don’t know how they explain that—but there is such a conception. You mentioned Hanukkah. Hanukkah is exactly that idea there, right. So I’m saying: I think what stands behind this dichotomy is that assumption, the one I’m attacking. And that goes down to the theological roots of the dichotomy, not only the politics. Theologically, there are people who hold—and many people, if you ask them, in my opinion most religious people you ask, and certainly rabbis—will tell you: what do you mean, “There is no place devoid of Him.” And not only of the Holy One, blessed be He, but also of Torah. Meaning, there is no neutral question. Therefore every question has to be referred to a rabbi. We already talked about Hanukkah, yes—because there is no neutral question. Every question is either forbidden or permitted or obligatory. There is some halakhic statement about it. They are unwilling to accept that there are secular domains. And by the way, as Rabbi Lichtenstein writes in the article “Is There Jewish Law and Process?” No, no, that’s a different article. Never mind. In some article of his too, on this matter—he says there that regarding values, external values, meaning the attitude of Jewish law toward external values, he says there that the fact that a domain is secular does not mean the Torah is neutral toward it. Obviously there are certain values by which, say, it is right to run the state in one way and not right to run it in another. That does not mean—just because the state belongs to the secular domain, that doesn’t mean one does the secular on the basis of holiness. But it is still secular. There is a secular domain. And Jewish law perhaps has nothing to say at all about this issue; only morality has something to say. Because how to run a state raises moral questions of right and wrong in statecraft. And certainly the Holy One, blessed be He, cares that we conduct ourselves morally. So the fact that the state belongs to the secular sphere, and that my identification with the state belongs to the secular sphere, does not mean that as a Jew I have nothing to say about how it is run.
[Speaker H] Like Asher Yatzar after going to the bathroom.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] Exactly, like Asher Yatzar after going to the bathroom. So that’s why I say that not only do we need to recognize that there is a secular domain, we also need to recognize that there is a domain of values about which Jewish law has nothing to say—a domain of values too, not only a domain of merely technical matters. Once I asked Rabbi Lichtenstein. My wife and I went to Rabbi Lichtenstein before we were married—I think that’s when it was. No, after. In Alon Shevut. We went to talk with him a bit precisely about this point: whether everything has some halakhic statement attached to it, whether it is right or wrong. That’s what they sold us all the time in Bnei Brak. And I had the feeling that something here wasn’t… now, I was just at the beginning of the road; I still didn’t know how to investigate it. So I went to ask him. So he told us: look, on the one hand—and now just a little saint-story in parentheses—on the one hand, I’m very angry, I even wrote this once, he said to us, at the religious parties that as a matter of principle do not go and ask rabbis. The National Religious Party, in its tradition, does not go ask rabbis. This has changed a bit in recent years because of problematic elements that entered it, but the traditional National Religious Party did not. Ideologically, it did not ask rabbis. Not only did it not obey rabbis—it did not ask. Fine? Because this is a secular domain. So he says: I am very angry about that. Not because I want them to accept my view or the view of whatever rabbis they choose. But I think they should ask. Why not ask? There is added value in what a rabbi says even in such areas. In areas that have value-laden aspects, it is certainly worthwhile to hear what a rabbi says about these matters. Afterward, decide. It is not a halakhic ruling. This is not a matter of Jewish law; Jewish law has nothing to say about it. You are not obligated to obey him. But the fact that you go consult all your friends and consult professors and consult anyone you want—except rabbis? That is infuriating. In that sense I completely agree.
[Speaker E] The problem with consulting rabbis is only that people don’t want to accept their rulings.
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, he wanted—that’s what he argued. I’m not discussing right now whether that’s what really happened; that’s what he argued. He argued that basically they weren’t listened to at all. That’s not—so I’m saying, this exactly reflects the distinction I made earlier. There is a secular domain. Jewish law has nothing to say about this issue. But that doesn’t mean my attitude as a Jew toward these domains is neutral. There is something to say about how to do it right or wrong. And therefore there may be added value to rabbinic opinion. That does not mean it will be a halakhic ruling.
[Speaker C] If you ask a rabbi, does that obligate you?
[Rabbi Michael Abraham] No, no. I’m asking him for an opinion. What does the Torah think? That sages should tell you in these matters? No. Not in halakhic questions. If I come to him, I’m saying: listen, I’m coming to consult with you, I’m not coming to ask for a ruling. Even if you think this is Jewish law, I don’t think this is Jewish law. I’m not coming to ask you Jewish law. I’m coming to ask what you think. Tell me the reasons, show me the different sides. You’re a wise person, I respect you, I want to hear what you have to say. What’s the problem? To me, it’s obvious that one should do such a thing. It doesn’t matter right now whether people actually did it or not; that was his feeling, and that’s what he was angry about. On the other hand, he told us: but there is a side that says it’s all Jewish law, there are things… There are things that are completely neutral. What to eat in the morning? A roll or bread? I don’t know. Fine. What does Jewish law have to say about that? Do whatever you want. So some people told me afterward: well, maybe one costs more, so you’ll have to work more, so there will be neglect of Torah study. Nonsense, just nonsense. Eat whatever you feel like. And if you work a little more, then you’ll work a little more. What does settling the Land of Israel have to do with this story? Exactly. Neglect of Torah study? Then come in as fast as you can and go study. One more thing. You can’t say it in such a sweeping way, that these are things that are completely neutral. Settling the Land of Israel is not connected to Zionism. Settling the Land of Israel as a private individual, you can do even without Zionism. If you want Israeli sovereignty, that’s something a bit different—that’s Zionism. Zionism is establishing a state with Israeli sovereignty, or Jewish sovereignty; I don’t like the term “Jewish” in this context, so I call it Israeli sovereignty. Fine. About that I say that, as far as I’m concerned, at the moment it has no religious value. But I completely identify with it. I want to live among my people, I want us to have sovereignty just like the Belgians want sovereignty in their own place. That’s all. Exactly the same thing, with no other issue involved. To live in the Land of Israel, to fulfill the commandments dependent on the land—that is a religious matter, obviously. But it’s not connected to Zionism. Why, for such a wise man, don’t you see that there’s a religious connection? For example, among the Haredim, on the issue of leisure, a big shift has taken place. All the things that were forbidden, forbidden, forbidden—suddenly you see them participating too. The shift isn’t all that big, but even where it has happened, there are still posters against singing events and things like that. Doesn’t matter. But they vote with their feet. You see them in all the leisure spots, you see them in restaurants, you see them on trips, everywhere you see them. But then, when you ask them for a rationalization—why are you doing this, after all it’s neglect of Torah study?—they’ll tell you: because you need to rest a little so you can study Torah better afterward. No, I’ll explain to you: there’s a halakhic consideration here, because without this it’ll be hard for me to concentrate later in the kollel. There’s a halakhic excuse here. The very fact that they need that kind of rationalization means that their underlying perception is that everything has to be judged in those categories. Now true, they vote with their feet, and I also don’t believe them that this is really their consideration, just like you don’t. But still, the very fact that they need a rationalization of that kind means that they’re not willing to accept simply: because I feel like it right now, I want to enjoy myself a little, what’s forbidden about that? And in my view that’s a completely legitimate consideration. Not in order to get some air so afterward I’ll concentrate better in the kollel, but because I’m also a human being besides being a Jew, and a human being wants to spend some time enjoying himself. What’s the problem? A person talks about things that also have value—reading literature, I don’t know, thoughtful literature or literature of value, or things like that. Yes, just literature, doesn’t matter, things that contribute. Things that even have value. And just plain, plain wanting to have a little fun—is it allowed to get some air? I’ll concentrate in the kollel even without that. Fine, but I want to get a little air—what’s the problem? Good, you can even discuss this in the laws of Torah study. Various later authorities discuss the contradiction between Berakhot and Menachot there, Rashbi and Rabbi Yishmael, who get switched around, yes? “The world follows its normal course,” and “you shall gather your grain,” and there “others will do your work,” and all those contradictions between Berakhot and Menachot. So many, many later authorities pore over this, and there are differences in wording in the straightforward explanation. Some of them really do say: you can live normally, just study when you can, and if you don’t do that, that’s what’s called neglect of Torah study. But you can live normally like any regular person, and if you need to enjoy yourself a bit, then enjoy yourself a bit—that’s perfectly fine. There are reasonable proportions, you know, but it’s not sharp, it’s not cut and dry. You can’t talk about it in halakhic language—whether you need it in order to concentrate in the kollel. That’s not relevant. Live like a normal person lives, and besides that also try to fulfill commandments, to study Torah as much as you can—all true, within what’s normal. That’s all. There are such approaches. There are approaches that really go in the direction that everything needs an excuse. And if you do it, it’s only because you have to earn a few more shekels, because otherwise you won’t be able to marry off your son or your daughter, I don’t know exactly what. It always has to come in the end to some kind of excuse. You can’t live normally because that’s how a normal person lives. And what about a discussion like this not at the halakhic level but at the level of values? Maybe not everything is halakhic, but at the level of values—in other words, surrendering to desire? You can discuss it on both planes, this idea of surrendering to desire. It’s a respectable discussion; it can be discussed on both planes. I think that on the personal level, again, of course this is a matter of feeling and intuitions, but on the personal level I think that as long as you don’t overdo it, it’s perfectly fine. You can have a little fun—what’s the big deal? That’s not surrendering to desire. Surrendering to desire is where you overdo it. Where you want to enjoy yourself a little—that’s allowed. The Holy One, blessed be He, created this world so that we should enjoy it too, didn’t He? Why else did He create everything that’s here? There are people who think that He created everything that’s here only in order to test us so that we wouldn’t use it. That’s the Haredi outlook. The Haredi outlook basically says: we live in a box… “He made it only for His glory,” not for mine. Yes, that’s what the Sages say, right? Meaning, everything the Holy One, blessed be He, made, He made only for His glory. So what do you want? What are you doing with this world? It’s some extremely strange conception—I’m using understatement here—a strange conception. He says: what are you talking about? Even at the theological level I can justify it. If the Holy One, blessed be He, created it, then apparently it’s okay. Now there are proportions—I’m not saying be nihilistic or hedonistic, do whatever you want whenever you want—but to live like a normal human being. What’s wrong with that? Fine, but again, that’s already expressing a position. From the standpoint of logic, I’ll go back to Religious Zionism versus Haredi society: what the two share, their common side, is the hyphen. And basically, if I attack the hyphen, that opens up another option for me. You don’t need hyphens. There is ordinary life that doesn’t need to be attached to your religion, or to anti-Zionism-religious, or Zionism-religious. Both of them are a hyphen attached to religiosity. Everything that happens on the other side is either being Zionist or being anti-Zionist, but always with a hyphen attached to religiosity. And you can attack the hyphen, the need for the hyphen. On the theological level, that is basically attacking the assumption that everything has to be judged in terms of your religiosity. And that’s not true. Now by the way, it’s known—I think I’ve said this in more than one place—that people usually say there’s a dispute here between Maimonides and Duties of the Heart. Duties of the Heart writes this, that there is nothing neutral. There’s nothing neutral? Yes. It’s a pietistic book, yes, the early pietists—not the Hasidim of the Baal Shem Tov. But Maimonides writes in chapter 1 of his commentary on the Mishnah on Avot, in the first chapter, that there are five kinds of speech. One kind of speech is speech that is commanded, one kind is fitting speech, one kind is forbidden speech, one kind is negative speech but not forbidden, and there is neutral speech. That there’s nothing at all about it. Does he call it neutral? Yes, I don’t remember the exact term he uses, but that’s the meaning, because it’s the fifth category. Symmetry. Yes, symmetry. Maybe there would have been symmetry even without the fifth. That too is symmetry, but the fifth also doesn’t break the symmetry. But when he says speech, does he also mean behavior? What? So I’m saying, I’m not sure this necessarily follows from that Maimonides. Because Maimonides only means to say that there is speech that is neutral—it’s not bad. But it could be that engaging in it is bad because it’s neglect of Torah study. The speech in itself isn’t bad, it isn’t negative. But to engage in it—for what? Go study Torah instead. He could say that. I’m not sure that this Maimonides is such strong evidence for this point. The proof was the opposite? Yes, but fine, that’s in more modern thought, you know. But Maimonides is saying: fine, the speech as such—I have no problem with it. True, there is a problem here because you’re just wasting time and not engaging in important things. What’s the context? In what connection? I don’t even remember. Look in chapter 1 of Avot there, in the commentary on the Mishnah, somewhere there—I don’t remember exactly. We’ll go look for it. Okay, so that’s regarding Religious Zionism and Haredi society. Hebrew law, the next example. Hebrew law—it’s accepted, accepted in the world of thought. I wrote an article about this too once, and got attacked. Almost everything here fits that description. In Hebrew law, usually—accepted by the Hebrews or by the jurists? No, by the Hebrews. By the Hebrews. I basically argued that there is no religious value in incorporating Hebrew law into the civil law. Because usually it was taken for granted that if you’re religious, then obviously you should aspire to have as much of Jewish law as possible realized. Why did you argue that there is no Hebrew law? What? More than that—within the claim itself, that was the subject of the article—in the article I discussed a certain aspect. I argued that there is no religious value in incorporating Hebrew law into the law. And commandments require faith; there is no meaning to commandments that are not done out of faith, and this is connected to many things. There were various arguments there, but for our purposes, again, only the logic matters. So on the logical level, once again there’s some kind of dichotomy here. One side says: I’m a religious person, obviously I should aspire to have as much of Jewish law as possible realized. And the secular person says: right, and I don’t want that to be realized. Now there are exceptions. On the secular side, for example, the whole concept of Hebrew law was invented by a secular person, as is well known. About that, Radziner, who wrote a response to my article there in the introductions—true to form, he’s also a kind of legal historian—so he wrote there and brought all the references from secular jurists who wanted it because of tradition and heritage and being proud of it, people like Haim Cohn and others like that. But I’m talking about much earlier. They basically created this concept of Hebrew law, which was enthusiastically adopted by Elon, Rakover, and their crowd. And that is really the exception on the secular side. The exception on the secular side basically says: there’s value in incorporating it because I want to express our tradition, our heritage, where it doesn’t contradict my regular values and so on. On the religious side there is less of that, although even there there is some. There is the well-known debate between Elon and Englard exactly on this point, and Englard makes this argument. He says that it’s not true; there’s no point in incorporating it. What Aharon Barak writes in the famous Handels ruling, about the case where they found some lost object in the Kupat Am bank—a collection of securities. We also discussed this once in one of the years. They found a lost object on the floor of the bank, and the question was to whom it should be given. Should it be given to the bank, since it was found in its domain? Or should it be given to the loser, meaning they should look for the one who lost it, since it really belongs to him? Or in other words, actually no—the question was even more, not who the loser was but who the finder was. Is the bank considered the finder because it was on its premises? So what if you happened to pass by there and pick it up? It was in the bank’s domain. Because they didn’t find the original owner. So if they don’t find the original owner after four months, according to the law, it goes to the finder. Now the question is: who is the finder? So that was the case. And there were lower courts and more lower courts, and in the Supreme Court it came up twice, I think. There was a long story there. In the end I also wrote an article about that matter too—a different one, not the earlier one—and there I dealt with what this reflects about conceptions of returning lost property, not with what people usually discuss. Usually the discussion around that ruling focuses on the Foundations of Law Act. Because the Foundations of Law Act says that where there is a lacuna, you bring in the heritage of justice and fairness of… something, the heritage of Israel—something completely amorphous. They managed to agree on that and everybody was very happy, and of course it means nothing. So in the end around this issue a debate arose, because Elon argued that there is some lacuna there. The law does not clarify who the finder is in such a situation. Since that’s so, he says, let’s go to Hebrew law. And in Hebrew law there is a Mishnah about a moneychanger’s table, yes, all those stories: if they found it outside the table, inside the table—and here it’s outside the table, because it’s basically in the place where the bank’s customers pass through. It’s in the public area, not the tellers. No, not in the courtyard. It was what the finder himself found. What? The moneychanger? No, but it’s not a question of acquisition, rather the question is who the loser is in a place where—you can also call it courtyard, that’s a question among the medieval authorities (Rishonim)—but in a place where the courtyard is open, not guarded according to the owner’s intent, it does not acquire for the owner. And here basically everyone has permission to walk around because these are customers. So it’s like the moneychanger’s table. Then he wanted to argue that it belongs to the finder—yes, outside the table it belongs to the finder. And Aharon Barak and his colleagues, which was ultimately the majority opinion, wanted to argue that it belongs to the bank, because it was in its domain. Now there’s a very interesting discussion there—I talked about it once—a discussion about what their conception is regarding the laws of returning lost property. But usually the discussion around that matter is a discussion of the Foundations of Law Act. The question is whether in such a situation it really is correct to bring in the halakhic aspect or not. Now there too there was a big dispute. Elon argued that this is a lacuna; others argued that there is no lacuna here. But Aharon Barak argued more than that. Aharon Barak argued that it is inherently problematic to integrate Hebrew law into Israeli law. Why? Because it creates a system that is not coherent. These two systems have different underlying assumptions. Now you don’t always see this. You can legislate some law; it seems fine to you, it doesn’t contradict anything, everything seems fine—and take it from Jewish law. But if you thought more deeply about the foundations, in certain situations it would create a contradiction with other laws, in the conceptions, in the meta-thinking of the matter, because it comes from somewhere else. For example, an example I brought there in the article: suppose you put the laws of bailees into Israeli law. Seemingly completely neutral—what’s the problem? Contract law, a bailee and a depositor. No problem. He is liable for theft and loss, not liable for theft and loss, paid bailee or unpaid bailee—what’s bad about it? You can put that in, that’s fine. It’s also more or less just, one might say—you can argue a bit, not important—but there is room for it. And I said no. Why not? Because an inseparable part of the laws of bailees is that you need to impose an oath on the bailee. And here you can’t impose an oath. What kind of oath will you impose? There are people who don’t believe in the Holy One, blessed be He—how will they swear? Now without the oath, the whole law has to change, because the oath is part of the whole structure. The very fact that I can make you swear and be sure that you did not put out your hand and take it for yourself—if that’s so, then I exempt you from theft and loss if you are an unpaid bailee. Because I believe you that you didn’t misappropriate it—you swore. But if I can’t make you swear, then the whole business has to change. You can’t detach something that appears neutral. Nobody would see here any contradiction with anything. But that’s not true if you think about it again: it comes from somewhere else, it assumes different assumptions. You are always sitting under the Holy One, blessed be He. And if you don’t return the lost object, He will fry you in Gehenna, so you’re afraid. But a person today isn’t afraid of that. A person who doesn’t believe. So what? And even a person who does believe is often not afraid of that. Doesn’t matter. But I’m saying, under different assumptions you can’t take a certain law, even one that seems completely neutral, a law dealing not with religious matters but with contract law—so why not take it from our glorious heritage, as everyone says? Because it doesn’t make sense to take it from there, and there’s no value in taking it from there either. So once again there is some breaking of the dichotomy here, because somehow it seems that if you’re secular then you have to oppose it, and if you’re religious then you have to support it. But if someone wants Torah law, let them go to a religious court. What’s the problem? Did I lock the door in front of them? I’m asking what is binding. After all, the law binds everyone. The law won’t say that if there are two religious litigants then the rule is such and such, and if… Can it? What? Can it? Yes, it can say that. It turns the rabbinical court, it turns the court into a rabbinical court. Then just go to a rabbinical court already—what difference does it make? And then they’ll go consult whether I’m religious or not religious. They should sit and consult whether I’m religious or not? They have to decide. So what is the ruling, and what is the third path that you find between them? Not to integrate it. To be religious and not integrate it. The third path—the dichotomy is a correlation, a false correlation. This is connected to what I said about false correlations: people usually create a correlation between your religious worldview—religious or not religious—and the question whether to integrate Hebrew law or not. If you’re religious then yes, and if you’re not religious then no. And I’m saying: here is a false correlation. It’s not true; it doesn’t have to be. Yes, exactly—there are four possibilities. Now fine, you can argue in favor of each one, but there are four and not two. This illustrates the false correlations I spoke about; that too is a tool, with the Golan Heights and all those examples. But in many classes we brought this ideal that every commandment has within it the value, the repair that it brings to the world. Now if you incorporate—I agree, for example, that the laws of bailees, which really are based on an oath and things like that, have no place. But it could definitely be that in many places, if you bring in elements from Hebrew law and really think them through all the way—just as there are contradictory laws even within a system that is coherent. True. You can’t avoid that entirely, I agree. It’s impossible altogether. In any case, I’m saying that in such places, ostensibly you are bringing some kind of repair into the world. I’ll give you an example. There was the High Court case about force-feeding geese. There was an opinion there by Vigoda, Michael Vigoda, on this matter, where they wanted to decide whether force-feeding was permitted. In the end they prohibited it. But there was a High Court case about it, and they discussed what to do regarding animal suffering, animal suffering. In Vigoda’s opinion he brought sources from Hebrew law about where Hebrew law draws the line. That of course isn’t Hebrew law; that’s Jewish law. It’s simply an idiotic term in this context. Even if you say that the laws of animal suffering are Hebrew law—you can argue—but you could say yes. But here this is Jewish law, not Hebrew law; it doesn’t belong to law, it belongs to Yoreh De’ah, not Hoshen Mishpat. What? Animal suffering. Yes, it’s Yoreh De’ah, not Hoshen Mishpat. It’s prohibitions and permissions. And precisely here, if you want to bring prohibitions and permissions from Jewish law into the legal system, actually here there is logic to it. I would be happy if they did adopt the halakhic conception at the principled level. Why? Because this really is something that Jewish law wants. It’s clear that this is not only a question of serving God, but rather the moral outlook of Jewish law. And I would want all of us, as much as possible, to uphold the moral outlook of Jewish law. This is not Hebrew law; this is Jewish law. But again, even there one has to be careful. Because when he brought the examples—and that too would be an interesting class to do sometime—when he brought the examples, you see that he brought some Hatam Sofer and some Rashba, I don’t remember, he brought a few such sources. And in what sense is that Hebrew law? Hatam Sofer said what seemed right to him. From where did he derive that line? Did he infer it from the Talmud or from a verse in the Torah? Did he make an exegetical derivation, an analogy? Of course not. There’s no source for it anywhere. It’s simply what seemed reasonable to him. Okay, so they bring it because it seems reasonable that way. Why is that Hebrew law? In what sense is that Hebrew law? What about some path of morality? No, that’s why I’m saying. But you said you would be happy if… No, I said that on the principled level, with this kind of question, I would be happy—but, and now I come to the “but.” The “but” says that in reality there isn’t really—so long as I agree with them, exactly—there isn’t really a position you can call the halakhic position. And that’s the disease of the Hebrew-law people; it’s a disease of second-order thinking. Ever since then this has been chasing me. Printed as some kind of text. Printed as some kind of text—it was really treated as first-order Jewish law. Exactly. But if there is Jewish law, why can’t you call it Hebrew law? Hebrew law is the legal part of Jewish law, interpersonal law. That’s law; everything else is Jewish law. What is “the legal part”? It determines what is permitted and what is forbidden. Jewish law is exactly the same thing. Not what is permitted and forbidden—what you’re liable for and what you’re exempt from. Fine, and law is exactly the same thing. No, here it’s prohibitions and permissions. If you’re allowed to abuse a goose, to whom do you pay if you abused it? You don’t pay anyone. This isn’t a discussion between people, it’s not a legal issue, it’s a halakhic issue. In Jewish law too there are legal parts. But Jewish law also determines that you pay according to Jewish law—what difference does it make? No, that’s not necessary, that’s certain. In Jewish law there are four—say, in the Shulchan Arukh there are four sections, right? In judicial work they deal with Even HaEzer and Hoshen Mishpat. No, I understood that, but you’re not answering the question why not call Jewish law Hebrew law. You can call it whatever you want, but it isn’t the legal part of Jewish law. Yoreh De’ah and Orah Hayyim—when you ask a question, you don’t go to a court, you go to a rabbi. When people go to a court, that’s Hebrew law. Maybe. You can argue even about that distinction, but there I can at least hear the terminology. When you go to a rabbi—what is Hebrew law? Does Hebrew law say that sorting is forbidden on the Sabbath? Is ritual handwashing Hebrew law? Do you want it entered into legislation as law that sorting on the Sabbath is forbidden? That’s irrelevant; that’s Jewish law. If there were a halakhic state, the law might forbid it, but it’s not… The terminology is misleading here. No, but not all Jewish laws are found in Hebrew law. But you say that where there’s a lacuna, why shouldn’t they adopt Jewish law? Jewish law, not law in the legal sense. I said that. I said that. It’s not Hebrew law; it would become part of the Israeli legal system… No, the Israeli legal system, not Hebrew law. What? It would become part of Israeli law, not Hebrew law. If they rely on Jewish law, what difference does the name make? Exactly. So I’m saying, but it’s very problematic, because it’s very misleading. The arguments get confused because of it. So I’m saying: in this type of question, this type of problem, I’m actually in favor. But that’s not… But it’s not Hebrew law. It’s Jewish law. And I’m saying—and now I qualify it—that on the principled level I’m in favor of integrating it. But still, the fact that Hatam Sofer says his reasoning, that Rashba says his reasoning—I can also state my reasoning. What do you mean there’s no Jewish law? What? Are you saying there’s no Jewish law? Right, there’s no Jewish law on this issue. Everyone says what he thinks. And in a case where there is Jewish law? That’s why I’m saying: if there were something clear in the Sages, or there were an explicit derivation, or something defined, clear, canonical, agreed upon, binding—fine, then I can understand. And even there, by the way, one can still discuss it. Because if that line is really a formal line and not a moral line, then I have no interest in its entering the law. If it really expresses moral principles that I would want to be there, then yes. But then I can persuade them on the grounds that it’s moral, not because it’s written in the Shulchan Arukh. And if it’s written in the Shulchan Arukh and it isn’t moral, then it won’t help for me to tell them it’s written in the Shulchan Arukh. So either way, why should I care whether it’s written in the Shulchan Arukh or not? In the end I have to talk with them about the question of what is right to do at the moral level. And it may be that I identify with the Jewish positions, and it may also be that I don’t, by the way. But if I do, then I’ll fight for it not because it’s Hebrew law, but because it is morally the right thing for the law to do. As a citizen of the state, I want the state to behave morally. And if something religious is immoral? Something religious is immoral? Then I say… would you be happy for them to integrate it or not? No. No. Specifically not to integrate it? Yes. Why? Because it has no value if you don’t do it out of faith. There are those who do think it has value. Let them do it, no problem—they’ll do it in any case. Do you want to coerce everyone into doing it? I’m against coercion. It won’t harm. Of course it will harm. Why? If it’s good, then why not? If it’s good, then fine—but because it’s moral. But if it’s a religious matter, a religious matter has no value unless you do it out of religious awareness, out of responding to a command. Fine, so that’s a different debate, yes. Amoral, non-moral. They don’t advocate it. Fine, that’s another discussion; I won’t get into it here. But I’m saying at the level… again, these are examples. I want to see the principle. Good, what else? The conversion controversy. Here, we’ve got about five minutes left and I won’t get to a few more things here, but it doesn’t matter—the principle is clear. The conversion controversy. There too, around the conversions of Rabbi Druckman and Rabbi Sherman—we were just talking about that before the class. Yes, so there too, once again, the world split in two. The Zionist rabbis of course support Rabbi Druckman, and that’s how one should convert, and everything is fine. The Haredi rabbis oppose the conversion, oppose Rabbi Druckman, and of course he’s wicked and all his wicked friends, and all these conversions are worthless. And that’s it—that’s the picture, a kind of rabbinic brawl. Ah, actually maybe I already mentioned this example? No? Did I say that I brought there an example showing that there are many questions there that are independent, and this is an example of false correlations? Many independent questions, and somehow they all got bundled together. The Zionists answer yes to all of them, the Haredim answer no to all of them. But what about those who answer yes to question one, yes to question two, no to question three, yes to question four, and so on? What about questions that are independent? Why do they have to come together? Once again, it’s an example of false correlations. Post-Zionism. Next example. There too. The enthusiastic Zionists of course oppose the post-Zionists and want to kill them, the post-Zionist historians. You can’t say they want to kill them—they want to denounce them, neutralize them. Neutralize them—that’s great. They want to neutralize them. Okay. And the anti-Zionists of course support this—what do you mean? Obviously, that’s how it should be, and so on. Now post-Zionist history isn’t exactly post-Zionism. Post-Zionist history means the shattering of the historical myths. Right? For example, that Trumpeldor cursed in Russian instead of saying “It is good to die for our land,” and that we did expel Arabs and weren’t as pure as we thought, and so on. That is the post-Zionist myth-shattering. Now you can be an enthusiastic Zionist—the shattering of Zionist myths, yes?—and you can be an enthusiastic Zionist and still understand that historically it’s true that Trumpeldor cursed in Russian, and that we expelled Arabs or killed Arabs or I don’t know exactly what; that’s probably also true here and there. And still I’m an enthusiastic Zionist and I believe in the justice of our cause, and everything is true. And true, there were deviations—so what? Why should my ideological, value-based position be derived from the facts? What does it have to do with the facts? Investigate the facts with historical tools, as much as possible. Sometimes it’s impossible, but try to investigate as much as possible, fine. See what happened and what didn’t happen. It may be that I am inspired in a wonderful way by the myth of Trumpeldor, it enchants me, I want to educate all the children on the myth of Trumpeldor, and still on the historical level I’ll conclude that it never happened. Is there some contradiction here? What’s the problem? Why is there no such sector in the population? Again, these false correlations. There’s the story that there wasn’t really a Davidic kingdom at all, that it was some tiny little thing—various things like that too. In the article I wrote about this—every such thing becomes an article—so in the article I wrote about this I brought the implication for belief in religious myths, like Zionist myths. And the debate between Rashba and Yedaya HaPenini, with the famous excommunication letter in the Rashba’s responsum. Yedaya HaPenini and his group—that’s the student of the author of Hashlama—and they interpreted the Torah allegorically. That Abraham and Sarah are matter and form, and all kinds of things like that, like the Davidic monarchy say, on the same principle. And Rashba goes out with great fury, an excommunication letter: don’t study philosophy until age twenty-five—yes? until after the army and another four years of career service—and only then is it permitted to study philosophy. And he was very angry with Yedaya HaPenini. And I didn’t understand why. What’s the problem? You can be committed to all the values learned from Abraham and Sarah without believing that they actually existed. If it’s just an educational myth, what’s wrong with that? There’s such a thing as a holy lie, no? Yes. Why? No, not a holy lie—a holy myth. What lie? It’s not a lie. I’m not telling you they existed; I’m telling you a story. What is mythology? In mythology do you really believe it happened? And still I read books of mythology with no doubt at all that it didn’t happen. No, but you educate based on it. Yes, certainly. But you could say the same thing about midrash. What? About midrash you could make exactly the same argument. Of course that’s true—what? To you it’s obvious. There are many people who would tell you, Heaven forbid. What? Ah, wait—do you also say about the Torah that Abraham and Sarah didn’t exist? No, I’m not saying that. I’m only saying I have no problem with someone who says that. “Your brother’s blood cries out to Me from the ground”—is that a metaphor or did it literally happen that way? What do you think? Is that a biological historical detail? I’m saying that on the logical level, this shouldn’t be something that disturbs me. I have no idea what really happened there; that’s a question on its own merits. Fine, so once again we keep coming back to the false correlations of left and right, for example. That if you are right-wing then you’re supposed to be cruel to the Palestinians, oppose any peace agreement, enthusiastically support every war we go into, and say don’t stop, okay? And if you are left-wing then the opposite: you’re supposed not to allow any cruelty, even where it’s needed, to oppose every war we go into, and so on. Now this is a collection of—exactly. What’s the connection at all? I can be very right-wing and still oppose unreasonable wars and oppose cruelty where it occurs—certainly where it isn’t needed. Why should I be indifferent to cruelty if I’m a man of the right? Or vice versa—why can’t you understand that sometimes there is a need, if you’re a person of the left? Listen, this is of course extreme; there are those who do understand. But I’m saying there is a certain discourse here that is very problematic. It is very dichotomous, and once again it creates false correlations. Correlations between various questions that have no connection to each other. The moral questions—it could be that I would be more concerned than all the people on the left with the suffering of innocent people, and I would establish organizations and everything, like B’Tselem did long ago, in order to highlight the matter. And together with that I would be an extreme right-winger who opposes every compromise and every territorial withdrawal and everything you want. How does that contradict anything? It contradicts nothing. Logically, no, but as a psychological way of life sometimes it’s a bit not… I don’t see why. I don’t understand why. I can live with both things without any problem.