It’s Complicated
This is the reply to nearly every question asked here that begins with, “How is,” or “Why is.” In Hebrew they say; זה מסובך (zeh misubach), it’s complicated!
“Truth and simplicity do not always overlap” wrote Daniel Gordis in his recent book, SAVING ISRAEL: How the Jewish People Can Win a War That May Never End. He used this phrase to describe the seemingly endless fencing match between peace and hostility being contested by the Israelis and the Palestinians.
On October 20, Thomas Friedman wrote a column in the New York Times titled; “Just Knock It Off; Will the Israelis and Palestinians Get Serious Already?” While Mr. Friedman’s many admirers describe his willingness to admonish his fellow Jews about Israel’s errors dealing with the conflict as evidence of his evenhandedness, articles like this recent one are troubling. Perhaps it was merely the voice of frustration pouring out from one who has yearned for peace in this land for so many years. Or, perhaps it was a bit of journalistic hubris from one who “knows better.” Either way, it’s VERY complicated, and the suggestion that everyone should “just knock it off” seems out of place for an observer as seasoned as Friedman.
As for my own complications, four weeks into ulpan (intensive Hebrew language immersion class), and I love being a student again. Of course, there is frustration, there is the painful reality of the difficulty of the task, and there is a very big time commitment. But there is more than enough genuine excitement at my progress to offset any pain. My repertoire includes upwards of 60 verbs from three “binyanim” (literally translates as “buildings” but in this case refers to categories of verbs). I can adequately conjugate between present and past tense. So linguistically, I am stuck in a live-for-the-moment by understanding the past orientation. (Not a bad perspective from which to view the world, though I am looking forward to developing even a rudimentary sense of the possibilities of the future!)
This past week in class we read a paragraph by one of Israel’s most beloved authors; Amos Oz. In the story, Oz depicts wisdom as an old man, a new immigrant to Israel. Sitting in the park, decked out in his suit and tie, he is met by a young Israeli who depicts the passion and fire of youth. “It’s boiling hot, the weather is always hard here in Israel” says the young man. The old man says he has moved here from Romania and now lives in Ashdod (a southern Israeli town near the sea). Asked how he likes life in Ashdod, the old man says, “It’s wonderful. I think Israel is like the Garden of Eden.” This statement inflames the young man, and he cannot help himself, exclaiming; “How can this be the Garden of Eden?! We have wars, internal strife, cultural dilemmas between people of different origins, problems between the religious and the secular, etc., etc.”
Unfazed, the old man sighs and says, “כן, גן–עדן עם צרות” (“you’re right, it’s the Garden of Eden (but) with troubles.”)
Each day the local Israeli papers are filled with stories about these troubles. The peace process or lack thereof; the status of Israel's relationship with the US, with Europe, and with her Arab neighbors; the scandals of this or that politician...it’s all very complicated. But maybe the most troubling and perhaps the most complicated of all is the real and growing wedge that exists between the Haredim (the Ultra-Orthodox) and everyone else.
A little historical background is useful here. In 1947, in recognition of the need to address the complex nature of the legal status of religion in the coming state, a letter was sent by the Jewish Agency - the primary Zionist institution then - to the ultra-Orthodox community. This letter became known as the “status quo agreement,” and has become the precedent upon which the preservation of the religious character of the Jewish State has been built.
The letter dealt with many issues, including; Shabbat, kashrut, education, marriage and divorce. Interestingly though, neither this letter nor the Defense Service Law of 1949 addressed the issue of exemption from military service for Yeshiva students (religious men who study Torah in traditional religious institutions). In 1948, Israel’s first Prime Minister, David Ben-Gurion, agreed to postpone military service of 400 Yeshiva students. On the eve of independence, Chief Rabbi Yitzhak Herzog wrote a formal request to the first Chief of Staff, Gen. Ya’acov Dori: “The holy Yeshivas in Israel deserve special treatment because, after the destruction of the Diaspora, they are the remnant of the Torah institutions and their students are a small minority. . . Requiring them to enlist, even if partially, could undermine them, and Heaven forbid that we should do that.”
These several hundred deferments have swelled to more than 50,000 today, representing over 14% of the country’s 18-year old men eligible for the military that evade service by studying in Ultra-Orthodox yeshivas. Given current population size and birth rates, that number is expected to rise to 25% within 10 years. Unchanged, within 30 years more than 50% of the army-eligible population will avoid entering the military this way. In a country in which military service is a defining cultural marker, this separation has created a dangerous social chasm.
The wedge goes beyond military service though. Approximately two-thirds of ultra-Orthodox men do not participate in the workforce, compared to one-third of non-Haredi men. It is estimated that underemployment of Haredi men costs the Israeli economy NIS 5-15 billion ($1-4 billion) per year. Further, the hottest political topic in Israel today is that the Israeli Government funds the studies of some 90,000 adult yeshiva students, for as long as they continue to study; the vast majority of whom do not work at all.
In addition, since the late 1970s (beginning with Prime Minister Menachem Begin), the Israeli government has provided a child allowance subsidy to all citizens that increases with each subsequent child. For two children a family receives NIS 360 per month, for four children the monthly subsidy is NIS 1090, and for six children the stipend reaches NIS 1822 per month. Given high birth rates among Haredi families, this policy adds to the tension.
Now layer on top of these socio-economic factors the emotionally and politically charged dialogue surrounding what are euphemistically referred to as issues of personal status; conversions, marriage and divorce. Let me start with a real and unfortunately typical story. Two weeks ago Michal, a daughter of our friends Emily and Jack, was married. Michal grew up in the Masorti movement in Israel. She and her new spouse Aryeh decided to enter the chuppah using a Masorti rabbi. She enjoyed a wonderful wedding, a beautiful Shabbat and weekend with family and friends celebrating the simcha of this happy, young Jewish couple. Yet in the eyes of the State of Israel, they are not married! If she had been married by a Masorti rabbi outside Israel, there would be no problem, they would be considered legally married. But here in Israel, unless one is married under the auspices of the Chief Rabbi’s office, they are not considered married. Thus to become legally married according to the State, these young couples must leave Israel and get married בחוץ לארץ (b’chutz l’aretz) outside the land of Israel!
And then there are the conversions. This past spring and summer we witnessed the reopening of the “Who is a Jew” wound due to the so-called “Rotem Bill.” The response by Diaspora Jews was dramatic; more than 60,000 emails were sent from US Jews to Prime Minister Netanyahu imploring him not to make a bad situation worse by codifying the power of personal status into the hands of the Chief Rabbi (which by the way is a creation / remnant of the Ottoman Empire, not a Jewish structure). In part because of this pressure, the bill was temporarily set aside. But the Chief Rabbi’s office remains undeterred. This summer the Chief Rabbi’s office decided to call into question the conversions of several thousand IDF soldiers that the Chief Rabbi had previously approved. These converts, mostly consisting of Russian immigrants, went through the strict halakhic process of conversion while serving the country in the military. Now these conversions are being threatened with reversal by the same Chief Rabbi that approved them!
Unfortunately this very complicated problem that began with the founding of the State has worsened. Israel’s Declaration of Independence, written May, 1948 says; “The State of Israel ... will ensure complete equality of social and political rights of all its inhabitants irrespective of religion ... it will guarantee freedom of religion and conscience.”
Sixty-two years later this expression of religious freedom is but a dream. To fix the problem? No doubt, it’s complicated. The political system here has created a State-sanctioned religion (ultra-Orthodoxy) that by most estimates represents approximately 15% of Israelis. But, due to the vagaries of its political system this group has taken advantage of its State granted license and accepts far more of the country’s resources than their fair share.
Consider what to do at the store when a cashier hands us change from a $20 bill when we only gave a $10. Our sages are clear on this; to retain the extra change knowingly is theft. Unfortunately the cashier in Israel is the State, and the customer is accepting $100s of millions of extra change not $10 worth. To fix this inequity is very complicated, and perhaps will be painful for many. But to avoid fixing it because of the extreme challenge is even worse.
Sources for this post include:
An article from Daphne Bark-Erez - visiting professor at Columbia University Law School: http://www.tau.ac.il/law/barakerez/artmarch2010/36.pdf
Hiddush - For Religious Freedom and Equality: http://www.hiddush.org/
