Amazon.com (Religion)

Amazon.com (Politics)

Friday, July 31, 2009

Expelling refugees to be like all other nations?

I wish to call attention to Dr. Elana Maryles Sztokman's Expelling refugees to be like all other nations?.

I'll briefly note: "Never Again" means that no one on earth will have another Holocaust. "Never Again" does not mean only to Jews; "Never Again" means "Never Again", period, whether the victims are Jewish or not.

With that said, let me briefly quote Dr. Sztokman. I encourage reading her article in full.
The announcement this morning by Interior Minister Eli Yishai of Shas [was] that the foreign workers will undergo a "massive expulsion." ... What shocked me was his rationale: "Whoever is found will not receive refuge — just like every ‘civilized’ country in the world," he said.

The irony here cannot be understated. Yishai, in his various governmental positions, has been one of the greatest proponents of the idea that Israel must be a nation unlike all others. ...

Now, however, Yishai conveniently wants us to be like all other nations. Just as other nations freely close their eyes to human suffering, so, too, the Jewish nation needs to be able to do the same. Just as the United States was able to send away the St Louis when the boat full of European Jewish escapees sought shelter from Nazi Germany, returning every passenger to the gas chambers without even the slightest flinch of what we might call "conscience," so, too, Yishai reasons, the Jewish nation can turn a blind eye to the plight of refugees, and thus be considered "civilized".
I completely agree in every way, and I don't think I can add anything to her words.

Dr. Sztokman further notes,
So here we are, witnessing this tragic irony in which the first time an ultra-Orthodox leader declares an opposing vision to be like all others, it is for the sake of being able to use an iron fist to expel the weakest members of our society.

Yishai has it backwards. This is a deplorable reversal of when we should be thinking for ourselves and when we should take inspiration from others. If the rest of the world kicks out refugees, we should not emulate others but explore our own morality. By contrast, if, in the rest of the world, abused women are allowed to freely exit marriage, we should not be so insistent that this is “our way” and therefore women are stuck. The unwillingness to see the global perspective and the universal moral implications of the agunah issue are rooted in an archaic, stubborn insistence that this is the Jewish way. It’s heartbreaking.
This reminds me of a certain Rabbinic aggadah. The Rabbis are faced with two different verses in Tanakh (I forget where), saying, alternately,
(1) We sinned in that we imitated the nations;
(2) We sinned in that we did not imitate the nations.
The Rabbis reconcile this contradiction by saying that we imitated the nations when we should not have, and we did not when we should have. The nations have things we should learn and things we should not learn, but we reversed the two, learning what we should not have and not learning what we should have.

Dr. Sztokman continues,
But there is another tragic distortion at work here. What should make the Jewish nation distinct is not the strict, unbending adherence to the greatest minutiae of ancient, archaic Jewish regulations. What should make us distinct is our commitment to the Jewish ethic. Torah is meant to offer us a set of moral precepts that would take us through history as a compassionate, ethical people. I’ve said this many times before, but I’ll say it again. The most fundamental ethic of Torah is compassion.
Regarding this, I'll refer readers to my The Morality Crisis in Orthodox Judaism.

Proud to be a Hirschian

Re: Rabbi Yitzchok Adlerstein's Proud to be a Hirschian.

Rabbi Adlerstein's article is quite fine, and I recommend it. But I wish to reply to the comments of one of the commenters there, "Neo-Hirschian." I agree with most of Neo-Hirschian's remarks, but I wish to point a few things out:

(1) Neo-Hirschian said that RSRH's (that's blog-speak for "Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch") views must be modified a bit (making "Neo-Hirschian" a Neo-Hirschian and not Hirschian), because, he says, in RSRH's time, German Orthodoxy "was not a milieu of Shas and Achronim." But I'll reply that in RSRH's time, Eastern Europe also "was not a milieu of Shas and Achronim." See what Rabbi Zalman Sorotzkin, the Hofetz Haim, and all the Agudist had to say on this era: they evince a real fear that the yeshivas would soon be empty. Bialik speaks similarly. See Professor Menachem Friedman's The 'Family-Community' Model in Haredi Society

He is trying to compare 19th century Germany with 21st century America; this comparison is invalid. Rabbi Hirsch's own congregants, though often very ignorant in Jewish learning, were not so far below the Eastern European laity.

Moreover, however, RSRH was a gadol of the same stature as anyone in Eastern Europe of his time. Even if RSRH's congregants were deficient in learning, this was due to the vagaries of the times, such as Talmud being outlawed in Germany some 70 years before RSRH came onto the scene. As Rabbi Shimon Schwab points out (Professor Shnayer Z. Leiman, "R. Shimon Schwab: A Letter Regarding the "Frankfurt" Approach", Tradition 31:3, 1997), 70 years of destruction surely demands at least 70 years of reconstruction. RSRH is not to be blamed for his congregants' ignorance; let us judge RSRH's wisdom in and of itself.

(2) I wouldn't call RSRH Neo-Maimonidean; I'd rather call him Neo-Sephardi. Compare everything RSRH says about limudei hol, to what Rabbi Benzion Uziel (a great exemplar of the Judeo-Spanish Sephardi tradition) says.

Indeed, here, Rabbi Marc Angel is asked by the Jewish Press,
Switching to the book you wrote on Rabbi Benzion Uziel, the first Sephardic chief rabbi of Israel [d. 1953], Rabbi Uziel once wrote that the holiness of the Jewish people is "not the holiness of asceticism and separation from life and the work of life. On the contrary, [it is] the holiness that is in life itself - to sanctify ourselves in thought and deed, to sanctify our landour individual and national beings, and the entire world." This sounds a lot like Torah im Derech Eretz or Torah Umadda.
Rabbi Angel replied,
Look, Rabbi Uziel never went to university. Nonetheless, he had this open view on life; he read all kinds of things. He was very attuned to the needs of society at large, Jewish and non-Jewish. The Torah was not given to be kept in a closet; it was given to bring light to the whole world. And I think that spirit imbued him.


Rabbi Angel has said to me personally that it is quite obvious that when RSRH needed a model for an enlightened German Orthodox Jew, he looked to the Jews of pre-Expulsion Spain. And since the Judeo-Spanish Jews of Turkey and Greece continued to uphold the Spanish weltanschauung, we should look to Balkan Jewry for guidance on implementing RSRH's ideals.

Rabbi Uziel had occasion to say,
Our holiness will not be complete if we separate ourselves from human life, from human phenomena, pleasures and charms, but (only if we are) nourished by all the new developments in the world, by all the wondrous discoveries, by all the philosophical and scientific ideas which flourish and multiply in our world. We are enriched and nourished by sharing in the knowledge of the world; at the same time, though, this knowledge does not change our essence, which is composed of holiness and appreciation of God's exaltedness.


Further, Rabbi Uziel says,
Each country and each nation which respects itself does not and cannot be satisfied with its narrow boundaries and limited domains; rather, they desire to bring in all that is good and beautiful, that is helpful and glorious, to their national [cultural] treasure. And they wish to give the maximum flow of their own blessings to the [cultural] treasury of humanity as a whole, and to establish a link of love and friendship among all nations, for the enrichment of the human storehouse of intellectual and ethical ideas and for the uncovering of the secrets of nature. Happy is the country and happy is the nation that can give itself an accounting of what it has taken in from others; and more importantly, of what it has given of its own to the repository of all humanity. Woe unto that country and that nation that encloses itself in its own four cubits and limits itself to its own narrow boundaries, lacking anything of its own to contribute [to humanity] and lacking the tools to receive [cultural contributions] from others.


Or as Rabbi Marc Angel says, following Rabbi Uziel,
Jews throughout history have not allowed themselves to be cut off from the intellectual currents of the world. Rather, they have been at the forefront in all areas of human knowledge and scientific advancement. In spite of the attempts by anti -Semites to confine Jews to ghettos and to limit their educational opportunities, Jews have made remarkable contributions to human knowledge. As active and knowledgeable participants in world civilization, our goal is to lead humanity in the paths of proper ethics and social harmony. [Mikhmanei Uziel, p. 120.]


Or further, Rabbi Angel says,
In Rabbi Uziel's view, the Torah is not simply a book of laws and commandments; it encompasses all knowledge. "It is impossible to understand it - certainly to plumb its depths - without a profound and broad knowledge of all worldly wisdoms and sciences" which are hidden in the depths of creation. [Mikhmanei Uziel, p. 405.] ... Rabbi Uziel did not see Torah and mada as conflicting. He believed, rather, that in order to be a Torah personality with full Torah knowledge, one must study worldly wisdom. But when one studies such subjects as philosophy, science, psychology, history and literature, one does not do so for the sake of academic knowledge, but rather as a means through which one gains a deeper understanding of God's ways. "Talmud Torah" is a general term referring to the attainment of wisdom; it includes Torah study as well as all the studies and sciences which deepen our understanding. [Mikhmanei Uziel, pp. 552-553. - emphasis added.] It is Talmud Torah in this broad sense which raises a person from ignorance to wisdom. Secular knowledge by itself provides knowledge, but only within the context of Talmud Torah does secular knowledge have ultimate meaning, leading the student closer to God. ... "It is true that scientific knowledge (mada) raises a person, gives him wings to soar to great heights, enlightens his eyes to discover the secrets of nature and to utilize its powers, to make life more pleasant and to increase longevity; general knowledge also endows a person with spiritual powers. But all the acquisitions of general knowledge are vessels which help one to live-and are not life itself. ... The goal (of life) is ... to know the God of the universe, to walk in His ways and to cling to Him. [Mikhmanei Uziel, p. 345.]


And Rabbi Angel further says,
He [viz Rabbi Uziel] felt strongly that Jews must be aware of their own national charter. Through this self knowledge, they would be able to conduct their lives according to the ideals set forth in the Torah tradition. This would lead to their own happiness, as well as to a positive influence on the world in general. Rabbi Uziel criticized those false ideologies which distracted the Jewish people from their authentic national charter. He rejected the assimilationists, since their strategy would ultimately undermine the true message of Judaism. He also chastised those who would restrict Judaism to the narrow confines of their homes, synagogues and study halls. This strategy would bury Judaism in a small inner world, cutting off its impact on society as a whole. It was necessary to steer a middle course between assimilationist tendencies on the left and isolationist tendencies on the right. Rabbi Uziel cited the verse in Mishlei (4:25) as a guide: "Let your eyes look right on and let your eyelids look straight before you. Make plain the path of your foot and let all your ways be established. Turn not to the right nor to the left. Remove your foot from evil." Only by focusing on the specific charter of the Jewish people-to create a righteous nation based on the laws of Torah tradition-could the Jewish people fulfill its mission. Through our creating a model Torah society, we would be seen by the entire world to be the representatives of God. Our Torah teaches us to live life in its fullness. It teaches us how to apply the highest moral and ethical standards to all human situations. Judaism is not a cult, but a world religion with a world message. "Our holiness will not be complete if we separate ourselves from human life, from human phenomena, pleasures and charms, but (only if we are) nourished by all the new developments in the world, by all the wondrous discoveries, by all the philosophical and scientific ideas which flourish and multiply in our world. We are enriched and nourished by sharing in the knowledge of the world; at the same time, though, this knowledge does not change our essence, which is composed of holiness and appreciation of God's exaltedness." The national charter of the Jewish people is "to live, to work, to build and to be built, to improve our world and our life, to raise ourselves and to raise others to the highest summit of human perfection and accomplishment. (This is accomplished by following) the path of peace and love, and being sanctified with the holiness of God in thought and deed."


So if we wish to learn more about implementing TIDE and RSRH's teachings, let us also study such things as:
--- Marc Angel, "The Grand Religious View of Rabbi Benzion Uziel", Tradition 30:1, Fall 1995.
--- Marc Angel, Loving Truth and Peace: The Grand Religious Worldview of Rabbi Benzion Uziel (Jason Aronson).
--- Marc Angel, Foundations of Sephardic Spirituality: The Inner Life of the Jews of the Ottoman Empire (Jewish Lights Publishing).
--- Marc Angel, Rabbi Haim David Halevi: Gentle Scholar and Courageous Thinker (Urim Publications).
--- Daniel Elazar, Can Sephardic Judaism be Reconstructed? and The Special Character of Sephardi Tolerance

Thursday, July 30, 2009

The Morality Crisis in Orthodox Judaism

My friend Gil Elon Amminadav pointed out an interview, The Morality Crisis in Orthodox Judaism.

I.

There, inter alia, we read:
Jeffrey Goldberg: ... [W]hat is the failure in Orthodox education, or in the Orthodox rabbinate, that lets this happen over and over again[?]. From a non-Orthodox perspective, I would hazard a guess and say that insularity combined with a hyper-legalistic approach to life -- i.e. I eat kosher, and I observe the manifold laws of the Sabbath, so therefore I'm right with God -- might lead to these kinds of moral failures. I'm not arguing against legalism, but can observing the ritual so fastidiously blind someone to the fact that there are a whole set of other laws governing the way we're supposed toward our fellow man?

Erica Brown: Ideally, legal nuances make people more fastidious in their observance of the bigger moral picture. I think it has in my own life. For example, I would venture to say that traditional Jews are more scrupulous about returning a lost object than others may be because Jewish law demands diligence in this area. However, I think you're right that for some, strict adherence to law without an underlying spiritual compass can result in forgetting what the law is there to enforce. Maimonides [sic: should be Nachmanides] had unkind words for such individuals. He called them scoundrels within the framework of the law.


I later saw that Ilana-Davita also cites (here) this same exchange between Goldberg and Brown. There, she (viz. Ilana-Davita) also cites words by David Feldman that aptly summarize the view of Nachmanides alluded to by Brown:
[T]hat mitzvah comes to express a fundamental truth of Jewish living. If one comes to the conclusion that his actions are permitted by the Torah even if they lack in basic decency, even if they are not good or upright, then that person is by definition mistaken. It is fundamentally impossible for lack of yashrus to coincide with the Torah’s vision.
Or, as Rabbi Yehuda Amital says here,
Many of the fundamental values of the Torah which are based on the general commandments of "You shall be holy" (Vayikra 19:2) and "You shall do what is upright and good in the eyes of God" (Devarim 6:18), which were not given formal, operative formulation, have not only lost some of their status, but they have also lost their validity in the eyes of a public that regards itself as committed to Halakha.
Therefore, Professor Marc Shapiro adds,
I believe that the "halakho-centrism" that Amital criticizes has another pernicious influence, and that is the overpopulation of "halakhic" Jews who have been involved in all sorts of illegal activities. A major problem we have is that it is often the case that all sorts of halakhic justifications can be offered for these illegal activities. One whose only focus in on halakhah, without any interest in the broad ethical underpinnings of Judaism, and the Ramban's [Ramban = Nachmanides] conception of Kedoshim Tihyu, can entirely lose his bearings and turn into a "scoundrel with Torah license."


II.

Returning to Goldberg and Brown, Gil Amminadav responded
I think that a major aspect of this problem is Orthodox Jewish identity itself, a religious identity unfounded in the history, literature, or law of the Jewish people. As Mr. Goldberg half-jokingly mentions, the privileging of observing kashruth (dietary law) and Shabbath (the Sabbath) over the observance of other laws (such as not stealing from or in any way mistreating other people, making a hillul ha-shem, etc) has given these "observant" Jews a distorted idea of what is expected of them by the law. By extension, as the law is meant to inform and shape our categories of right and wrong, as Jews, these "observant" Jews wind up with a very distorted idea of what is right and wrong - a much bigger problem than a few handcuffed "rabbis"!

I disagree with Ms. Brown about the need for a "spiritual compass" to remind us what the law "is there to enforce." What failed these crooks was not their lack of a "spiritual compass" but rather their belief that there are some laws - kashruth and Shabbath - that are more important than others. When a religious identity is founded entirely on the "observance" of those particular laws, then it can only be expected that such religionists would come to neglect the observance of the other laws.

I do not see the problem as either "the fastidious observance of ritual" or the absence of an "underlying spiritual compass." I see the problem as a Jewish religious identity that arbitrarily determines Jewish norms of behavior irrespective of the outline provided by the Tora.


Personally, I don't think there's a big difference between the "spiritual compass" explanation by Brown, and the distorted understanding of ritual mitzvot according to Amminadav. In truth, I think they are both the same phenomenon. That is, if one misunderstands the respective purposes and values of mitzvot bein adam l'havero (ethical and social mitzvot) and mitzvot bein adam la-makom (ritual mitzvot), then one's spiritual compass is awry. So I agree with both Brown and Amminadav, because i think they're saying the same thing.

So what these crooks are lacking is precisely the spiritual compass that informs them of what the purpose of the law is. If one believes - as the Haver (Rabbi) in the Kuzari appears to hold in 2:48 - that the sine qua non of Jewishness is korbanot (sacrifices) and tefillah (prayer) and Shabbat and kashrut, then one will of course believe, as Goldberg puts it, "I eat kosher, and I observe the manifold laws of the Sabbath, so therefore I'm right with God." In the times of the prophets, many Jews were similar to today's many (not all) ethically-challenged hyper-legalHaredim; the prophets blasted them for believing that offering the korbanot and keeping Shabbat somehow substituted for proper treatment of the widow and orphan. These prophetic-era Haredim held that being God's chosen people and keeping His ritual mitzvot made one right by Him, and that He would protect His people from any disaster, no matter how ethically corrupt His people was.

On the other hand, if one holds - like the Kuzar King in Kuzari 2:47 - that the sine qua non of Jewishness is ethical behavior and social justice, then one's perspective will be entirely different. Indeed, to the Haredim of the prophetic period, Micha said, "Oh man, G-d has told you what is good: to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God." Jeremiah said, "Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, nor the mighty man in his might, nor the rich man in his riches. But he who glories, let him glory in this: that he knows Me, that I desire righteousness and justice, for in these I delight." Regarding Avraham Avinu, God said, "Shall I keep from him that which I have decided to do with Sodom? Have not I known him in order that he teach his household and his children after him to guard the way of God, to do righteousness and justice?". Rabbi Akiva of course said that loving one's fellow is the summation of all of Judaism, and ben Zoma similarly held that "This is the book of man" is the summation of Judaism.

Rabbi Yom Tov Schwarz (Eyes to See, Urim Publications) points out that in Beitza, Hazal question the Jewish pedigree of anyone who is not merciful or kind, and the Rambam and Shulhan Arukh take this quite literally, declaring marriage to someone unkind or unmerciful as violating the prohibition of marrying a gentile. However, notes Rabbi Schwarz, Hazal never say this of anyone who violates Shabbat or kashrut; such a sinner is a Jewish sinner, whereas an unkind person isn't even a Jew in the first place.

And who can forget how much more severe the punishment for bein adam l'havero (social and ethical mitzvot) is (viz. a flood and universal destruction and death) over the punishment for bein adam la-makom (ritual mitzvot) (viz. a dispersion, with everyone surviving in his new home)? And G-d said regarding the idolatrous prophetic-era Ephramites, "Ephraim is at one; let him be." Even idolatry is forgiven when it is accompanied by unity and brotherly harmony.

If one understands all this, then one's spiritual compass is in order, and one will understand what G-d desires. But if one does not understand this, then he will be one of the many (not all) ethically-challenged hyper-legalHaredim, not so very different than those criticized in the Tanakh.

III.

Brown makes another good point:
Morality is not a natural and assumed set of values, and we make a mistake as leaders or parents if we think that our charges will know how to do right and why on their own. Isaiah, in the very first chapter of "his" book says: "Learn to do good. Devote yourselves to justice. Aid the wronged. Uphold the rights of the orphan; defend the cause of the widow." Isaiah makes no assumptions. He tells us straight-out - learn to do good. And so we must.
To this, I reply: Orthodoxy, Then and Now, by Dr. Yitzchok Levine.

IV.

Brown makes one point, however, with which I must disagree; she says
[H]ere I would make a critical distinction. Judaism upholds certain ethical values grounded in the book of Deuteronomy -- "And you shall do what is just and good in the eyes of God" -- that some Jews choose to ignore. That's a human problem, not a faith problem. In other words, there are Jews and there is Judaism, and they are not the same thing.

The fact that [individual] observant Jews can turn away from the Talmudic dictum that the "law of the government is our law," namely, that we are bound by the jurisdiction of whatever country we are in, shows a moral failing on their [individual] part. As you know, Jeffrey, I grew up in Deal, New Jersey. I feel ulceritic at what I read and saw yesterday. As my daughter said loudly when she heard, "How can the paper report that they're Orthodox? There is nothing Orthodox about them."
My reply is simply a quotation of Rabbi Hillel Goldberg, from "Religious Zionism Revisited: A Symposium", in Tradition 28:4 (1994):
At Emory University in 1978, a colleague taught a course on the interaction of religions. He asked me to sit in as a "J udaica expert" on that part of the course devoted to the interaction of Judaism and Christianity. As it turned out, I did not need to answer the toughest question. My relief, it is clear in retrospect, was premature.

A graduate student at Emory's Candler School of Theology, preparing for the Christian ministry, addressed me without animus, with genuine conviction-which only made his question all the more frightening. He asked: "How can you blame the Church for the Crusades? The Crusaders were not Christian. They did not represent true Christianity. They were distorting true Christianity. Let the Jews stop laying a trip on the Church for the likes of the Crusades."

I was stunned. This was no rabid anti-Semite. This was a sincere, educated man in his late twenties, with some experience in life. Before I had a chance to fumble for an appropriately pointed yet cool answer, my colleague, a decent man of Christian heritage from Mississippi, took the question naturally, without missing a beat, answering out of years of self-scrutiny, answering undefensively, with learning and simplicity. His response had an authority that only a person of his background could bring. He spoke to this effect: "The distinction between a supposedly pure, ethereal Church-some per fect Church somewhere in the sky-and the brutal acts undertaken in the name of the Church on this earth, has been a favorite technique in parts of the Church for avoiding its real, historical responsibility for the brutalities it has perpetrated against the Jews."

I wanted to bend over and kiss my colleague.

Now I want to cry.

Then I was elated not only because my colleague's words got me out of a tough spot, but because they issued from painful acknowledgement of historical truths, from difficult self-scrutiny. Especially in the context of the Holocaust, the Jewish people has come to take it for grated that it is a collective Christian obligation to confront its own hateful history, to accept the moral category of collective responsibilty, to weed out theological rot, to condem perpetrators and bystanders, even when they are embodiments of sacred Christian tradition. We have a right to expect all this, but all the more must we expect it our ourselves-Go d's chosen people-if we fail, even if our failing is hardly comparable to the anti-Semitic monstrosities of Christian history.
One must realize: even if Judaism disagrees with what some Jews are doing, the fact remains that these Jews are Orthodox, and therefore, Judaism either made them what they are today, or tacitly allowed them to so become. Either way, whether they act they way they do because of Judaism or despite Judaism, either way, Judaism has failed.

V.

Earlier, I briefly quoted Rabbi Yehuda Amital, that,
Many of the fundamental values of the Torah which are based on the general commandments of "You shall be holy" (Vayikra 19:2) and "You shall do what is upright and good in the eyes of God" (Devarim 6:18), which were not given formal, operative formulation, have not only lost some of their status, but they have also lost their validity in the eyes of a public that regards itself as committed to Halakha.
I also quoted what Professor Marc Shapiro adds, that,
I believe that the "halakho-centrism" that Amital criticizes has another pernicious influence, and that is the overpopulation of "halakhic" Jews who have been involved in all sorts of illegal activities. A major problem we have is that it is often the case that all sorts of halakhic justifications can be offered for these illegal activities. One whose only focus in on halakhah, without any interest in the broad ethical underpinnings of Judaism, and the Ramban's [Ramban = Nachmanides] conception of Kedoshim Tihyu, can entirely lose his bearings and turn into a "scoundrel with Torah license."


Let us now quote Rabbi Amital and Profesor Shapiro more fully (from here; all bolding is mine.):
5. In recent years a few volumes from the writings of R. Yehudah Amital have been translated into English, allowing many new people to be exposed to his thoughts. Here is a provocative passage from his newest volume, Commitment and Complexity: Jewish Wisdom in an Age of Upheaval, p. 48:
We live in an era in which educated religious circles like to emphasize the centrality of Halakha, and commitment to it, in Judaism. I can say that in my youth in pre-Holocaust Hungary, I didn't hear people talking all the time about "Halakha." People conducted themselves In the tradition of their forefathers, and where any halakhic problems arose, they consulted a rabbi. Reliance on Halakha and unconditional commitment to it mean, for many people, a stable anchor whose purpose is to maintain the purity of Judaism, even within the modern world. To my mind, this excessive emphasis of Halakha has exacted a high cost. The impression created is that there is nothing in Torah but that which exists in Halakha, and that in any confrontation with the new problems that arise in modern society, answers should be sought exclusively in books of Halakha. Many of the fundamental values of the Torah which are based on the general commandments of "You shall be holy" (Vayikra 19:2) and "You shall do what is upright and good in the eyes of God" (Devarim 6:18), which were not given formal, operative formulation, have not only lost some of their status, but they have also lost their validity in the eyes of a public that regards itself as committed to Halakha.
This reminds me of the quip attributed to Heschel that unfortunately Orthodox Jews are not in awe of God, but in awe of the Shulhan Arukh. In truth, Heschel's point is good hasidic teaching, and R. Jacob Leiner of Izbica notes that one can even make idols out of mitzvot. (Beit Yaakov, vol. 2, p. 256.) He points out that the Second Commandment states that one is prohibited from making an image of what is in the heavens. R. Jacob claims that what the Torah refers to as being in the heavens is none other than the Sabbath. The Torah is telling us that we must not turn it into an idol. In this regard, R. Jacob cites the Talmud: "One does not revere the Sabbath but Him who ordered the observance of the Sabbath." (Yevamot 6b)

I believe that the "halakho-centrism" that Amital criticizes has another pernicious influence, and that is the overpopulation of "halakhic" Jews who have been involved in all sorts of illegal activities. A major problem we have is that it is often the case that all sorts of halakhic justifications can be offered for these illegal activities. One whose only focus in on halakhah, without any interest in the broad ethical underpinnings of Judaism, and the Ramban's conception of Kedoshim Tihyu, can entirely lose his bearings and turn into a "scoundrel with Torah license." The Rav long ago commented that halakhah is the floor, not the ceiling. One starts with halakhah and moves up from there. Contrary to what so many feel today, halakhah, while required, is not all there is to being a Jew, and contrary to what so many Orthodox apologists claim, halakhah does not have "all the answers." One of the most important themes in Weinberg's writings is the fact that there are people in the Orthodox community who, while completely halakhic, are ethically challenged.

Since I already mentioned Rabbi Rakov, let me tell a story that illustrates this. I went to Gateshead to interview him about his relationship with [Rabbi Yehiel Yaakov] Weinberg. When I got there I had a few hours until our meeting so I paid a visit to the local seforim store. I found a book I wanted and asked the owner how much it cost. He gave me a price, and then added that if I was a yeshiva student there was a discount. When I later met with Rakov I asked him if it would have been OK for me to ask one of the yeshiva students to buy the book at discount, and then I could pay him for it. He replied that there was certainly no halakhic problem involved. After all, the first student acquires the book through a kinyan and then I buy it from him. But he then added: "Yet it would not be ethical."

[Rabbi Yehiel Yaakov] Weinberg's concerns in this area were not merely motivated by the distressing phenomenon of halakhically observant people who showed a lack of ethical sensitivity. His problem was much deeper in that he feared that this lack of sensitivity was tied into the halakhic system itself. In other words, he worried that halakhah, as generally practiced, sometimes led to a dulling of ethical sensitivity. Weinberg saw a way out of this for the enlightened souls, those who could walk the middle path between particularist and universal values. Yet in his darkest moments he despaired that the community as a whole could ever reach this point. This explains why he esteemed certain Reform and other non-Orthodox figures. Much like R. Kook saw the non-Orthodox as providing the necessary quality of physicality which was lacking among the Orthodox, Weinberg appreciated the refined nature of some of the non-Orthodox he knew and lamented that his own community was lacking in this area. It was precisely because of his own high standards that he had so little tolerance for ethical failures in the Orthodox community. Weinberg's sentiments, which focused on inner-Orthodox behavior, were not motivated by fear of hillul ha-shem. It was simply an issue of Jews living the way they are supposed to. (I think an important point, which I have not seen anyone make, is that the entire concept of hillul ha-shem has basically disappeared in the United States. This perhaps has had some impact on Orthodox misconduct. What I mean is that in years past people were held back from doing things because of a fear of how it would look to the non-Jewish world, i.e., it would lead to Jews and Judaism being degraded in their eyes. Today, very few Jews think like that. We live in a great country. If a Jew, or an Orthodox Jew, does something illegal, even if he is on the front page of the newspaper, the typical non-Jew does not take this as a reflection on Jews as a whole or on the religion – and we have had many examples to illustrate the empirical truth of this statement. People know that there are scoundrels in every religious group, and one should not judge another person or religion based on the actions of individuals. When we have reached this wonderful point, what room is there for hillul ha-shem as a motivating factor?)


P.S.: Rabbi Amital said, "Reliance on Halakha and unconditional commitment to it mean, for many people, a stable anchor whose purpose is to maintain the purity of Judaism, even within the modern world." Cf. what Shimshonit writes here, inter alia:
It seems to me that there are Jews who are looking for more things to do to keep themselves occupied. Many of these things involve focusing on women’s (real or perceived) sexuality. In my opinion, these people live in fear. I, on the other hand, do not.
That that, I reply:
It seems like almost a form of OCD. They so desperately want to be in control of their environments, that they invent new humrot to keep themselves busy.

Moreover, Professor Haym Soloveitchik in Rupture and Reconstruction notes that it is a result of a psychological need to be the “other.” Traditionally, Jews were quite clearly an ostracized minority, living their own distinct lives in their own distinct social bubble. But following the Emancipation and the migration to Western Europe (socio-economic Western Europe, not geographic), Jews ceased to be such a distinct minority. Professor Soloveitchik says the acculturation can be in such things as subtle as the way your body subconsciously beats to music. Therefore, the Haredim are struggling to find ways to distinguish themselves from society, because they have a desperate psychological need to be an oppressed ostracized outcast minority.

I’m reminded of something I read from Rabbi Dr. David Berger:
[T]here are many Jews who are very uncomfortable saying anything good about non-Jewish attitudes toward Jews. It somehow becomes an article of faith that all Christians have to hate us, that Esav sonei es Yaakov is some sort of necessary, metaphysical reality, and that it’s somehow un-Jewish to limit it in any way. It’s a very strange Jewish characteristic; Jews become uneasy if you tell them that it’s not the case that every non-Jew has always hated all Jews. Somehow it makes Jews happy to hear that they have always been hated by everybody, which is not a good sign in terms of Jewish psychology.
(See the rest of Berger’s article there as well; it’s worth the read.)
Shimshonit (op. cit.) further says,
I think it’s good for men and women to be around each other enough for them to be used to seeing the other as humans, not just sex objects.
To this I reply (op. cit.)
That’s why I love what Rabbi Yuval Cherlow said, that ideally, men and women would be so inured to each other in social settings, that sexual tension would be absent, and the laws of tzeniut would be irrelevant. This ideal is perhaps impossible to achieve, but it is nevertheless the ideal, and the closer we get to it, the better.

And see The Ten Curses of Eve where the author quotes Rav Kook that ideally, the mitzvah of v’ahavta l’reakha kamokha would have men and women interacting in society without segregation. Rav Kook, however, says that unfortunately, sexual attraction and the laws of modesty demand that the mitzvah of v’ahavta be put aside for a different mitzvah. However, the author of that piece then notes that in any curse from G-d – whether pain in childbirth or growing crops by the sweat of your brow – is something for us to overcome with human ingenuity. The logical implication is that it is our task to overcome the “curse” of men and women not being able to properly fulfill the mitzvah of v’ahavta with each other.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Kahanism and the Israeli-Arab Conflict

I just read the story of Baruch Marzel's daughter's cell phone on Arutz Sheva, and I must say, I am heartened. I have long said that the notions will only respect us once we respect ourselves. Stockholm's Syndrome, as it afflicts Israel's political leadership, will not induce others to respect us.

Of course, in order to garner the world's respect, we must also respect our own culture and national literature; let everyone choose himself whether or not to be religious, but at least read the Tanakh and Mishnah and Talmud as Jewish national literature! If Israeli public schools avoid teaching authentic Judaism, even for the sake of academic history, then how can we expect the nations to respect us? I believe it is to Moshe Feiglin's enduring merit that he has made no secret of all this. But I digress.

I agree with others that respect is much to be preferred over fear. I would much rather that the Arabs respect us for being G-dly, humane, decent, loving people, than fear us for being vengeful. But sometimes, fear is all that other people understand. Imagine someone is abusing your relative; assuming there are no police, perhaps your only option is to terrorize the abuser and show him that it is in his own best material interests to stop. Is this ideal? No. Ideally, the abuser would realize on moral grounds that he should stop. But sometimes, the best you can do is show him that his own material safety depends on his ceasing his abuse. I would prefer that the Arabs realize on moral grounds that their attacks on innocent Jewish civilians are criminal, and that they would realize on moral grounds that Israel is a legitimate Jewish country. But if they cannot realize this morally, at least let them realize it viscerally. If they won't respect the Jews, at least let them fear the Jews. After the bulldozer attack in Jerusalem, Shmuel Sackett relates what he read in one newspaper: the reporter asked some Arabs in the shuk why they (meaning Arabs in general) weren't scared to perpetrate such an attack. The Arabs replied that a few years ago, they would have been afraid to perpetrate terrorist attacks, as they knew Israel's reprisal would be merciless. But today, they said, they realize that Israel won't do anything to stop terrorism, and that therefore, they can attack innocent Jewish civilians with impunity, knowing the Israeli government will do nothing to stop them. Is this to be considered to be in Israel's honor? Imagine a man said he could abuse his wife because he knew the community would do nothing to stop him. Obviously, I'd prefer that he stop abusing her of his own moral accord, but if not, shouldn't he know that to abuse his wife is to put himself in danger at the hands of an angry mob? I should wish that every man on earth were mortally afraid of abusing his own wife, for the sake of his own skin!

Now then, to be honest, I am highly reticent to either support or condemn some of Marzel's activities and the activities which he has supported. As I have said, while imposing fear and terror on the Arabs may even be necessary, it is something that fills my heart with sorrow and grief; it may even be necessary, but it gives me no joy. The most notable example of the activities supported by Marzel - the activities about whom my support and condemnation is extremely equivocal - would be the Baruch Goldstein incident; I don't think I have to explain why the concept of gunning down a throng of worshipers disturbs me. On the other hand, I cannot but concede that in all likelihood, everyone - or at least a very sizable portion - killed by Goldstein was either a terrorist or a terrorist sympathizer. In the end, I must resort to what my mother has taught me: she says she hates to hate any human being on earth, but that the Arabs make it awfully hard to live by this ideal. Similarly, I shouldn't have to wonder whether it is right or not to gun down worshipers in prayer; if someone asks me of the propriety of such an act, I should be able to unequivocally condemn the act. But the Arabs have taken this from me; they have taken from me the ability to unequivocally condemn what Goldstein did. Now, I would myself never do that which Goldstein did, nor would I advise anyone else to act as he did. But I am unable to clearly and definitively and unequivocally condemn what he did; for this, I cannot forgive the Arabs. I can perhaps forgive them for killing Jew, but I can never forgive them for making me uncertain whether or not I may kill an Arab. I cannot forgive them for stealing my innocence; I shouldn't have to wonder whether to kill a particular human being is anything but murder in cold blood.

In the end, I have no choice to support the deportation of Arabs from Israel. I am aware that many of them desire peace, but I cannot tell the peaceful ones from the militant wars. Every time Israel offers peace, another cafe is detonated. Israel simply cannot afford to give the Arabs another chance. I hate to do this to any human being; it pains my heart every time I have to propose this policy, but we have no choice anymore. My mother tells me that when either Oslo Accords were made, my older brother asked her whether or not she thought peace would come. She answered him that honestly, yes, she believed Arafat and the Arabs had finally matured and were finally ready to have peace with Israel. (She had already read all the literature on the Israeli-Arab conflict, and knew that theretofore, everything had clearly been the fault of the Arabs, from the 1929 Hebron Massacre to the 1947 refusal by the Arabs of an international Jerusalem, from the Arabs starting war in 1948 to their starting war in 1967, all before the West Bank was ever in Israel's hands.) Then, after Oslo ("When peace broke out"), the terrorist acts continued unabated. That was it, she said; that was the last straw. Until then, she had been as gung-ho about the peace process as every other American, but when the terrorist acts continued, she said, she couldn't take it anymore. She, like me, hates to admit it, but deporting the Arabs is the only chance for peace.

Everything I hold in politics goes against everything I believe; it all goes so totally against my grain. That is the only consolation I have left; as long as I only grudgingly support Rabbi Kahane's policies out of sheer necessity, I can tell myself that I have not yet resorted to violence and hatred as a policy. As soon as I enjoy endorsing Rabbi Kahane's policies, I know that I am lost. If a man kills in self-defence, he knows that he is healthy as long as each killing in self-defence saddens him and fills him with anguish. But once he resigns himself to killing in self-defence, or worse, once he enjoys it, then he knows he is lost.

To put this into context: some of the rabbis whose weltanschauungs I most heartily endorse and follow are those of Rabbis S. R. Hirsch, Benzion Uziel, Hayim David Halevi, and Moshe Shmuel Glasner (Rabbi Yehuda Amital follows him). Given those are the rabbis I follow, one can imagine how difficult it is for me to endorse Rabbi Kahane's teachings. (Rabbi Hayim David Halevi said the Torah has no place whatsoever for Rabbi Kahane, and Rabbi Yehuda Amital's followers and Rabbi Kahane's followers are extremely antagonistic towards each other. Rabbi Amital founded the left-wing Meimad party.) But I have no choice; the Arabs have ensured that Rabbi Kahane's teachings in this area are correct. I wish that Rabbi Kahane were wrong in every way; I wish that Rabbi Amital were correct, I really do. But at least I still wish this; as long as I carry a wish in my heart that Rabbi Kahane were wrong and Rabbi Amital correct, I know that my soul still endures.

As an aside, however, I am rather proud of a recent accomplishment of mine: as I explain in The Intractable Israeli Conflict, I recently convinced a Ghandist friend of mine that Rav Kahane's policies are not altogether evil. This friend of mine still believes that Ghandi's policies are the most preferable and that Judaism is a bloody religion, but he conceded that Rav Kahane's views had reason and intelligence to them, and are not altogether unwarranted. Even though he completely disagreed with me, nevertheless, when we parted, he wished me a good day. When a Ghandist wishes a Kahanist a good day upon parting, you know you've accomplished something!

It might bear mentioning that I still completely hold by that which I wrote in Respect Americas Muslims, which was even published in the Washington Post. I also was then invited to reiterate those words on my high school's PA morning announcements, something which gave me great pride. I also was invited to join my high school's Muslim Student Association, to which I subsequently belonged until my high school graduation.

I much enjoy Rabbi Dr. Marc Angel's piece, Voices of Peace, Voices of Understanding; it is a very nuanced piece, but one undercurrent is clearly visible: Rabbi Angel notes
In 1919, Rabbi Benzion Uziel, then a young rabbi, spoke to a conference of rabbis in Jerusalem. He stated: "Israel, the nation of peace, does not want and never will want to be built on the ruins of others....Let all the nations hear our blessing of peace, and let them return to us a hand for true peace, so that they may be blessed with the blessing of peace." In 1939, when Rabbi Uziel became Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Israel, he delivered his inaugural address in Hebrew, and then added words in Arabic. He appealed to the Arab community: "We reach our hands out to you in peace, pure and trustworthy....Make peace with us and we will make peace with you. Together all of us will benefit from the blessing of God on His land; with quiet and peace, with love and fellowship, with goodwill and pure heart we will find the way of peace."
and then he notes further
In 1919, at the Paris peace conference following World War I, the Emir Feisal, one of the great Arab leaders of the time, made the following comments about the Jewish desire to return to their ancient homeland in Israel: "We Arabs...look with the deepest sympathy on the Zionist movement....We will wish the Jews a most hearty welcome home....I look forward, and my people with me look forward, to a future in which we will help you and you will help us, so that the countries in which we are mutually interested may once again take their places in the community of civilized peoples of the world."

I do not know if any Arab leaders today can say these words with sincerity. Yet, if Arab leaders-especially Palestinian leaders-could find the strength to say these words, the dream of peace might be brought closer to reality. Israel wants most what the Arab world has for the most part not given: a sign of acceptance, a sign of welcome, a sign that Jews have a right to live in peace and tranquility in the land of Israel. The people of Israel need to hear what Emir Feisal said: welcome home; we will help you and you will help us. Together we will raise our peoples to great cultural and economic heights.
It is clear where Rabbi Angel is putting the onus. (However, do not mistake this quotation of Rabbi Angel to mean that Rabbi Angel supports my words in this present essay. I do not know Rabbi Angel's views on the issues I am discussing, as I have no discussed them with him. Do not mistake my quotation of Rabbi Angel for indication that he agrees with me.)

What I hope is that the Jewish community will succeed in doing that which will please G-d, in accomplishing whatever must be accomplished in Israel. I wish that we have strength to do exactly what is required, neither unnecessarily violent (which would constitute sinful theft and murder), nor unnecessarily peaceful (which would be to turn the other cheek). It is a difficult dialectic, and I wish us every success, with G-d's help. May we be filled with and dominated by the dialectic that Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik believed in, as discussed by Rabbi Emanuel Rackman (Orthodox Judaism Moves With the Times):
[T]he highest form of religious experience comes from constant turmoil and from the experiencing of life's irreconcilable antitheses-from the simultaneous affirmation and abnegation of the self, the simultaneous awareness of the temporal and the eternal, the simultaneous clash of freedom and necessity, the simultaneous love and fear of God, his simultaneous transcendence and immanence. True, with the departure of Sabbath's peace, Jews may sing, 'The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures." But the road to the green pastures is a narrow and winding one, along a steep cliff, with a bottomless pit below. It is the other words of the Psalmist - "From the deep I called unto Thee, O Lord"-that describe the most authentic religious experience, and the deep is a deep of antinomies, doubts, and spiritual travail.
May we make the correct choice every time we are faced with that dialectic. Every time we must (with no possible alternative) engage in unsavory or violent interactions with the Arabs, may we successfully so engage, and may we regret that we have to, but may we realize that we have no choice.

But of course, I'd much prefer that all this violence becomes unnecessary. As we read in Ezekiel 18:20-24 (1917 JPS translation, courtesy of Mechon Mamre):
The soul that sinneth, it shall die; the son shall not bear the iniquity of the father with him, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son with him; the righteousness of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon him. But if the wicked turn from all his sins that he hath committed, and keep all My statutes, and do that which is lawful and right, he shall surely live, he shall not die. None of his transgressions that he hath committed shall be remembered against him; for his righteousness that he hath done he shall live. Have I any pleasure at all that the wicked should die? saith the Lord GOD; and not rather that he should return from his ways, and live? But when the righteous turneth away from his righteousness, and committeth iniquity, and doeth according to all the abominations that the wicked man doeth, shall he live? None of his righteous deeds that he hath done shall be remembered; for his trespass that he trespassed, and for his sin that he hath sinned, for them shall he die.


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Postscript:

Someone wrote to me privately, pointing out that according to some reports, the Arabs whom Goldstein killed had weapons caches and were actively preparing to commit a terrorist act.

Moreover, he noted that Rambam's Hilkhot Avodah Zara chapter 10, there are two different ways we treat idolaters and other immoral gentiles in Israel:
1) In a time of peace, we cannot actively kill them, but we also don't actively save them from danger;
2) In a time of war with them, we kill them indiscriminately.
He wanted to say that we are at war with the Arabs (who reject the Noahide law against murder, and are thus halakhically idolaters), and that therefore, we can kill all of them indiscrimately.

My response to him:
I don't know exactly what happened with Baruch Goldstein, and I don't think it is possible to know. Therefore, the best I can do is formulate multiple responses. For example, I could say, "If the Arabs he killed were peaceful, he is a murderer; if not, then not." This is a simplistic example, but I think you get my point - I have not made an unequivocal statement about him, largely because so many of the facts are in dispute. In any case, I am less concerned with Goldstein himself - I'll let G-d judge him - and rather, I am more concerned with what his example teaches us for the future; I am more concerned with learning a lesson about what we should do in the future, and what we should do to future Goldsteins, than with Goldstein himself.

If it is indeed correct that the Arabs had weapons caches and such, then obviously, Goldstein was not a murderer. I've even read conflicting reports on whether the weapons caches existed, so I just don't know. But I think it is pretty obvious that if the Arabs had weapons caches and were actively preparing to kill Jews, then obviously Goldstein was not a murderer. To make a reductio ad absurdum: if Goldstein killed a Muslim with a bomb on his body en route to detonate, obviously Goldstein would not be a murderer. This is so obvious, I don't think I need to say it. Therefore, I focused on the more grey and hazy and morally ambiguous case of Goldstein having mere suspicions that the Arabs would soon have another attack, based not on concrete evidence but rather on general suspicion and mathematical probability. Imagine if a Jew burst into Ramallah and shot whoever he saw: is he a murderer or not? We don't have evidence that anyone in particular he killed is a terrorist, but let's face it: probabilistically, most of the slain Arabs probably did support terrorism. This is the case I wanted to focus on, because it is where the real question and doubt lies. If Goldstein had any concrete and certain evidence that the Arabs were or were not planning an attack, then it is obvious that he was or was not a murderer, without a doubt. The only question and doubt we have here is when the Arabs in question were probably but not certainly supportive of terrorism.

As for the Rambam's ruling, I think it is difficult to say that we are at war with each and every individual Arab. If an individual Arab in Ramallah opposes terrorism, then we are not at war with him, and I don't think the Rambam applies to him. This brings us right back to where we started. Now, perhaps we can go by the rov (majority) - perhaps Goldstein can kill every Arab he sees, since 95% of them (to make up a number) are at war with us. This is essentially the very question I dealt with in my blog entry - can one act in such a manner?
From my blog post above, it is clear that I am very much in doubt as to whether one may act in such a manner. On the one hand, I concede that in all probability, most of the Arabs killed were guilty of terrorist sympathy. On the other, it pains me to admit that one might be permitted to indiscriminately gun down a throng of civilians. I just don't know. Thus, all I am left with is the feeling that I cannot forgive the Arabs for putting me into this doubt, and that we must end this conflict once and for all via population transfer.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Post-Postscript: In the comments below, Rejewvenator asks,
I don't want to get into name-calling, so let me start by saying I utterly repudiate your logic and your proposed solution on moral grounds.

But let's talk practical grounds. Where exactly do you plan to deport all these Palestinians to? How do you plan to execute the procedure? And what do you intend to do with their territory and personal property?


This is an excellent question. I respond:
I'll ask you: what's your proposed alternative solution? Given that the Arabs even today explicitly equate the West Bank and Tel Aviv, and given that both Hamas and Fatah still explicitly condone if not advocate terrorism (Hamas has not changed its charter, while Fatah and Abbas have recently reiterated their support of terrorism), what would you suggest instead?

I basically see three possibilities:
1) All the Jews leave Israel;
2) All the Arabs leave Israel;
3) War continues for the envisionable future, with no foreseeable end in sight.

[Cf. what I write in The Intractable Israeli Conflict.]

Anyway...

Practically, I don't know exactly how to implement it, but I never claimed I did. I can advocate blacks and whites receiving equal educations even if I don't know how this will work out financially, how to use the police forces to protect the blacks during the first steps of integration, etc. Just because I know nothing about finances and police logistics doesn't mean I cannot advocate a moral position. So too here; I'll advocate what I think is necessary, and I'll let others more competent than myself work out the details.

Where? I say Jordan, given that the British, when they created Jordan, designated it as the Arab state as part of a "two-state solution", as the British called it. As far as I'm concerned, if Jordan does not accept the Israeli Arabs, then Jordan has no right to exist, for the very existence of that nation was with the understanding that it was part of a "two-state solution."

But if Jordan won't accept the Israeli Arabs, that isn't my problem. If the Arabs want to detonate cafes and stage a shooting at a yeshiva in Jerusalem, then they've relinquished any right to stay. And if they have nowhere else to go, then maybe they shouldn't have put themselves in this whole position in the first place.

Their territory? It will be part of Israel.

Their personal property? They'll take with them what they can, and whatever they cannot, they'll receive full unabridged monetary compensation for. This of course applies to both movables and real estate.

Monday, July 27, 2009

"Arranged" (Film)

I just saw the film "Arranged". To quote its website:
Two young women — one an Orthodox Jew, the other Muslim — meet and become friends as first-year teachers at a public school in Brooklyn. Over the course of the year they learn they share much in common, not least of which is that they are both going through arranged marriages.


The film's trailer:


My brief review:

Overall, I much enjoyed the film. It was very low-key, and I don't think it will radically change anyone's thinking in one fell swoop, but I suspect this was the intention. Rather than foist a heavy dose of propaganda on the audience, with the risk of its being rejected as saccharine and preachy, it appears that instead, the audience was presented with a rather unpretentious and mundane interaction between the two protagonists. The characters acted and spoke quite naturally, without an obvious agenda from the filmmakers; it seemed natural and not forced. (The "making of" film said as much; they filmed during the Lebanon War, but tried to keep politics out of the film; they wanted the friendship between the two women to stand, without an obvious political agenda being foisted on the audience, and I think they succeeded.)

The "Making-of" film:


However, I think many of the topics in the film suffered by being a bit thin. Many opportunities for elaboration and depth were passed up. For example, I understand that the Israeli-Arab conflict was not discussed by the two protagonists, for quite understandable reasons, but I still would have liked to see some indication of intereligious discussion. For example, the two characters could have discussed the fact that Jewish women cover their hair only after marriage whereas Muslim women do it from their youth. After the cemetery scene, they could have discussed the propriety of talking to the dead, where such dialog with the dead ends and idolatrous necromancy begins. I would have also liked to see more dialog between Rahel and Nasira's family (dialog between Nasira and Rahel's family seems rightly to have been impossible, given Rahel's mother's so abruptly and rudely dismissing Nasira from her home); I am sure that in real life, Nasira's family would have much to ask an Orthodox Jewish friend of their daughter's! Perhaps they could have even invited her to dinner, inviting a polite refusal from Rahel on the grounds of kashrut, etc. Even if time considerations prevented the actual dialogs from being included, I would have liked to see at least token indications of dialogs, something along the lines of a discussion beginning and the character getting half an answer out of her mouth before being cut off by a scene change, or something along these lines. At least that way, even if the audience never heard the actual conversation, at least the audience would be aware that a dialog occurred offscreen. Somehow, it seemed unrealistic and dissatisfying to me to see an Orthodox Jew and a devout Muslim be close friends without ever discussing their respective beliefs and religions. With the principal, we at least saw a few examples of her trying to foist secularism and women's liberation on Rahel and Nasira; one suspects that this happened more often than we see in the film, but at least the viewers saw enough of it to realize that it was occurring. Similarly, Eddie briefly remarked on how his aunt also believed in the evil eye; even if in real life Eddie would have later discussed this with Rahel in greater detail, at least the view got a brief glimpse of a more extensive conversation. I also enjoyed the brief broaching of the "off-the-derekh" phenomenon with Rahel's cousin Leah, Rahel's saying to Leah that she didn't want to leave Orthodoxy, her profound dissatisfaction with non-Orthodox dating (in her experiences with the non-Orthodox Jewish man at the party, and in her discussion with the principal about non-Orthodox sexual behavior). Similarly, since the Arab-Israel conflict was in fact briefly raised, we can surmise that offscreen, Rahel and Nasira did indeed discuss this topic. Even though the viewers never saw them discuss this, the film did mention it briefly, and the viewer's credulity is not strained; he realizes that Rahel and Nasira were aware of political realities, and presumably the two of them broached the topic on their own time. So I'd like to see at least a few indications of dialog between the Orthodox Jew(s) and the Muslim(s) regarding their religions, at least as token placeholder dialogs that indicate to the view, if only for a transitory moment, that more occurred offscreen than could be shown in the film.

Another thing that bothered me: Rahel sees Gidon in the library studying with Nasira's brother, and Nasira asks her brother about Gidon. But Rahel never finds out anything about Gidon at all, and Nasira gets only a very short shrift from her brother, about how Gidon is apparently not on the market. Thus, neither Rahel nor Nasira know much of anything at all about Gidon. And yet, when Rahel is presented with Gidon by the shadkhan, she is clearly excited. Whence her excitement? She doesn't know anything about him, save that he learns with Nasira's brother! But Rahel has not even heard anything about Gidon from Nasira nor from her brother; all she knows is that Gidon learns with Nasira's brother, period. Thus, while I can understand Rahel being interested in dating him (perhaps the novelty of dating outside the shadkhan system, and the associated psychological relief), I cannot understand what is apparently the profound excitement of hers. She has no reason to believe he will fundamentally differ from anything the shadkhan has offered! What I would have rather liked to be seen is either Rahel having a conversation with Gidon at the library (again, it could be a brief placeholder conversation just to give the audience the understanding that a more extensive conversation occurred), or Nasira talking to her brother more extensively about Gidon (again, perhaps a placeholder conversation). Then, Rahel and Nasira would have something regarding Gidon to go by, and could have real reason to believe it is a good shiddukh; the audience could be given cause to believe that Rahel and Nasira truly know something promising about Gidon. If so, the shadkhan and the shiddukh system would still nevertheless pose an obstacle, and Rahel would be apprehensive about dating someone from outside the system (destroying her younger sister's prospects, etc.), paving the way for Nasira to disingenuously present Gidon to the shadkhan, as we saw in the film. Perhaps it could have even occurred that by the time the shadkhan presented Rahel with Gidon, Rahel had already dated Gidon, and only disingenuously pretended to the shadkhan not to know of him, in order to appear to her relatives and the shadkhan as if Rahel were operating faithfully within the system. But as the film presented Rahel's meeting Gidon, it strained my credulity.

But except for these flaws, I basically enjoyed the film. It was very low-key and mundane, as I said, and it presented me with no major new insights, but it was an enjoyable film that showed a possibility for tolerance and even brotherhood with the "other" within the context of ordinary believable life, such as feasibly is possible for any ordinary person. I believe this was quite a strong point of the film; it allows the topic of interfaith relationships to be raised, without the film becoming a dry documentary or a charged polarized provocative ideological piece. I'll try to recommend this film to the Muslim Student Association I belonged to in my public high school (Springbrook HS) in Silver Spring, MD.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Marzel's 'Good PR' Gets Daughter's Phone Back

Marzel's 'Good PR' Gets Daughter's Phone Back

Arab who found phone offered to return it to its owner in exchange for 1000 shekels. But when he discovered its owner is the daughter of Baruch Marzel, his tone changed:
"Marzel is the head of your clan, I don't want problems," he said. "This phone will bring me only bad things."

...

The incident demonstrates the value of his tough approach, Marzel said. "Our neighbors understand the language we speak with them," he explained. "I'm glad that I have such good public relations with the Arabs here that they returned the phone of their own accord,” he added.


When you stand up for yourself and have self-confidence - unlike the Israeli political leadership, which is afflicted with Stockholm's Syndrome - others will respect you as well. If we want others to respect us, we must respect ourselves.

Of course, one crucial aspect of this self-respect is teaching Judaism - authentic Judaism - in the Israeli public schools, as Moshe Feiglin has called for; others cannot respect Israel if Israel does not respect its own history and culture.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Wife-Beating in Judaism and Rabbinic Literature

A friend of mine emailed me, asking me if I knew anything about wife-beating in Judaism. The following is what I sent her.

One thing occurred to me, however, after I had written it: In the dispute shown below between Maimonides and Rabbi Joseph Karo on the one hand, and Ra'avad, Tur, Rosh, and Hagahot Maimoniut on the other hand, I automatically assumed a historical sociological explanation for the dispute. That is, it never occurred to me to seek legal or exegetical reasons for the dispute. Compare what Professor Marc Shapiro writes in Professor Marc Shapiro's book review titled "The Uses of Tradition: Jewish Continuity in the Modern Era, Jack Wertheimer, ed. (Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1992) 510 pp. Halacha in Straits: Obstacles to Orthodoxy at its Inception by Jacob Katz, Hebrew (Magnes Press, 1992) 287 pp." (Tradition 28:2, 1994):
In other studies Katz argues that, in the absence of convincing halakhic sources with which to refute the Reformers regarding issues such as yom tov sheni and metzitza, the halakhists came up with novel ideas and sources, giving the practices an entirely new basis and often classifying what used to be regarded as a secondary detail, e. g. metzitza as a central religious obligation. There is little doubt that, if asked, the nineteenth century pasek would deny that his categorizing of metzitza as central to the commandment of circumcision has anything to do with the Reformers. As far as the halakhist is concerned, if metzitza is shown to be an indispensable ritual, than it has always been indispensable. The halakhist would never agree that he has taken liberties with the sources because of religious or social pressures. However, the historian tries to explain trends and understand why it is only in this particular generation that metzitza assumes such central importance. Furthermore, as Bernard Bailyn has so correctly noted, "the very possibilty of historical explanation lies in the differences between the perspective and range of knowledge of participants and those of the historian."[12] It is the historian who views the halakhist as having been pressured by forces beyond him, and often not even apparent to him, into a sometimes radical reinterpretation of sources, all in order to justify what in his mind is essential to prevent the breakdown of traditional Judaism.

...

Unlike the historian, the halakhist believes that every decision rendered has always been inherent in the traditional texts, just waiting to be derived. Even when the halakhist admits that he is stretching the sources in order to find some justification for a questionable practice (limmud zekhut)- always a noble endeavor - as long as sources can be found the halakhic system has not been undermined in any way.

This basic difference in outlook can be seen again and again when comparing the approaches of the halakhic historian with that of the pasek and can be illustrated most vividly by looking at Haym Soloveitchik's description of the Tosafist atttude towards martyrdom.[16] According to Soloveitchik, professor at Yeshiva University's Bernard Revel Graduate School, there were occasions when contemporary circumstances led the Tosafists to create a new legal standard and in so doing were responsible for a radical new development in halakha. Soloveitchik's method of describing halakhic development is shared by such leading scholars as Katz, Ephraim Urbach,[17] and Yitzhak Gilat, all of whom identify with Orthodoxy, and it is this method which is rejected as factually incorrect, and even heretical, by those who do not recognize any real history or sociology of halakha. The dispute is, of course, not new and was one of the basic points of disagreement between R. Samson Raphael Hirsch and R. Zechariah Frankel, and to a lesser extent Hirsch and R. David Hoffmann.[18]

[12] See Gordon S. Wood, "The Creative Imagination of Bernard Bailyn," in James A. Henretta, et ai, eds., The Transformation of Early American History (New York, 1991), p. 41. My thanks to Dr. Edward S. Shapiro for bringing this valuable essay to my attention.

[16] "Religious law and Change: The Medieval Ashkenazic Example," AJS Review 12 (1987), pp. 205-221.

[17] Katz, however, has called attention to a difference between his approach and that of Urbach; see Halakhah ve-Kabbalah, pp. 344ff. Whereas Urbach speaks of social conditions forcing the rishonim [Medieval authorities] to issue real heterim [leniences], Katz views the rishonim as doing nothing more than providing a halakhic imprimatur for what was already common practice. Soloveitchik's approach is in line with that of Katz.

[18] Yonah Emanuel, in his review of Yitzhak Gilats Perakim be-Hishtalshelut ha-Halakhah (Ramat Gan, 1992), in Ha-Maayan 33 (Tishrei, 5753), pp. 42-49, correctly senses that the latters approach follows in the footsteps of Frankel, and therefore Emanuel disqualifies his book from the realm of faithful Torah scholarship. Gilat, ibid. (Tevet, 5753), pp. 51-57, replies to a number of Emanuel's specific points but does not deny that his approach is similar to that of Frankel. The implication is clear, namely, that the realm of faithful Torah scholarship is much wider than what Emanuel believes it to be.


So, revelation of the century: I follow a non-traditional academic sociological-historical view of halakhic development; my Orthodoxy is of the YCT/R' Avi Weiss/Open-Orthodoxy sort that in the early 20th century century, would have been classifed as Conservative Positive-Historical Judaism. (Isn't life interesting? Nod to Naamah.)

So now, we return to our original topic, namely my friend's request for sources on wife-beating in traditional Judaism literature. I told her:

Hmm...

This is something I've never really researched, but here's what I found upon a cursory investigation. (I don't have time to do a full-scale search through the indices of Rabbinic literature.)

Rambam (Maimonides - 12th century Spain and Egypt) in Hilchot Ishut (The Laws of Women) 21:10 says
Every woman who refuses to do one of the labors which she is [customarily] required to do [for her husband], he [the husband] strikes her, even with a whip.


At that location, however, the Ra'avad (Rabbi Avraham ben David, contemporary of Maimonides in Provence, France) comments in his running criticisms to Maimonides,
I have never heard of a basis for [the use of] whips on women. Rather, one reduces her necessities and provisions until she submits [to her husband's authority].


Interjection: In the comments, "Anonymous" directed me here. There, we read


The RMb"M [i.e. Maimonides, Rambam] uses the plural word for force (Heb. Kofin), meaning that THEY, the Bais Din (court) can exercise its authority.

The true meaning of the RMb"M is that the court has the ability to decide whether a person has fulfilled the implicit responsibilities of a relationship that they contractually enter into with another person. If a woman refrains from performing her duties, the Bais Din may choose to use its police (Heb. Shot-rim) powers, including the use of a strap (Heb. Shoot) to compel her to do so.

Similarly, if a man refuses to provide his wife with his responsiblity of food, the court may choose to compel him, even by means of the Shoot. It is also interesting to note that the prevalent opinion is that court should not use its police powers of physical force on women.

...

Note here the plural ("kofin otah") and the mention of the judge in the last sentence. From this it is obvious that it is not the husband, but the court (the Beit Din) who has the authority to force her to do the required labors.

...

We see therfore, that no one, not even a Sepharadi (more correctly, a Yemenite), can justify his attitude by quoting the RMb"M. Thus, on this ruling, R. Yosef Qafeh - the foremost Yemenite rabbi today who follows the RMb"M - condemns in the strongest language the husband who takes the law into his own hands to beat his wife.


According to this, Maimonides would not in any way condone wife-beating. Apparently, it is the Jewish court, and not the husband, who whips the recalcitrant spouse - and this ability of the court extends to whipping men and women alike.

However, as far as I can tell, prior authorities understood Maimonides to permit whipping a wife. Ra'avad and Rabbenu Tam both replied to Maimonides to the effect that wife-beating is something Jews don't do. Even if Maimonides didn't condone wife-beating, perhaps later rabbinic authorities misunderstood him and so condoned wife-beating? I don't know. A look here would incline me to be not surprised of some authorities so understood Maimonides as permitting wife-beating.

It'd require a great amount of research for me to investigate all the various historical interpretations of Maimonides's meaning. That is, even if Maimonides did not condone wife-beating, as we have seen, perhaps other rabbinic authorities understood him to be permitting wife-beating? Oftentimes in law, it is less important what the judge meant, than it is what others think the judge meant. It is others' understanding of the judge, not the judge's own intent, that determines what later generations will practice. So how did others interpret Maimonides? Did they interpret him as forbidding wife-beating, or did they, like Ra'avad, interpret him as permitting?

I don't know.

Now, we return to what I wrote to my friend:

I am not sure where the following is written, but I have read that Rabbenu Tam, a contemporary of Maimonides's in France, reacted to Maimondes with the blunt statement,
Such a thing is unheard of in [the children of ] Israel.


Commenting on Maimonides, in the commentary titled "Kesef Mishneh", Rabbi Joseph Karo (16th century Safed, then a part of Turkish Jewry) has a lengthy discussion. He notes that some commentators (notably the Tur, Rabbi Yaakov ben Asher, of 14th century Spain, but the son of a prominent German rabbi, the Rosh, Rabbi Asher ben Yehiel) have been puzzled by Rambam's ruling. They note that according to the Talmud, a woman is obligated to serve her husband only if she demands to be provided for by him. If, however, she declares intent to provide for her own livelihood, then the husband cannot demand that she perform labor for him. (You would be quite correct in deriving that a woman is given complete freedom in Jewish law to own property and to buy and sell and control her own money. Moreover, Jewish law prescribes numerous laws regarding the financial arrangements between husband and wife, but the underlying assumption behind these laws is that the husband and wife made no other arrangements themselves; husband and wife have complete freedom to define the financial aspects of their marriage however they desire. But lacking such explicit stipulations, the baseline laws and customs prevail. Generally, it is assumed that the husband provides completely for his wife, and any money the wife makes belongs to her husband, and she is obligated to labor if he demands, provided the labor is not servile and degrading.) So according to the Tur, Maimonides shouldn't be permitting wife-beating; rather, if the wife refuses to work, the husband should simply stop feeding her, and let her provide for herself! (Cf. the Ra'avad above.) But Rabbi Karo disagrees: he distinguishes between the labors a wife is customarily obligated to perform for her husband (Talmud Ketubot 61a ordains three labors a wife must perform for her husband: mix for him his cup of wine, make his bed, and wash his face, hands, and feet), and any other labors the wife performs (Rabbi Karo says "sewing", but he seems to mean any productive labor not part of the afformentioned three). In other words, Rabbi Karo says that whereas a wife may refuse to sew (apparently meaning sew clothes to sell at the market), she cannot refuse to make his bed, wash his face, hands and feet, or mix his cup of wine. If she refuses to sew, the husband merely will stop providing for her sustenance. If, however, she refuses to perform the three customary labors, she is beaten.

In the Hagahot Maimoniut, an Ashkenazi (European) commentary on Maimonides, we read:
The Tur brought the the language of this page* and the criticisms of the Ra'avad, and he [the Tur] raised a difficulty [on Maimonides] and brought the opinion of [his, the Tur's father] the Rosh that one does not whip her [the wife], as Rav Huna [a Talmudic rabbi] said: "A woman can say to her husband, 'I will not be provided for, and I will not work.'"

*[Heb. עמוד - This terminology is unfamiliar to me, and I'm not sure what he means; but the gist seems to be that the Tur quoted Maimonides.]


In the Shulhan Arukh, the 16th century code of Jewish law by the afforementioned Rabbi Joseph Karo of Safed, I did not find anything on wife-beating, but the comtemporary Ashkenazi (European Jewish) gloss by Rabbi Moses Isserles (Rama) reads (Even ha-Ezer 154:3):
...A man who strikes his wife, has sin in his hands, as if he has struck his fellow.


To summarize: Maimonides says to whip a wife if she refuses to work, and Rabbi Karo seems to find no problem with this. He says that if a wife refuses to "sew" (i.e. extra labor), then she simply won't be provided for, but that if she refuses to do the three obligatory labors (washing her husband's face, mixing his cup of wine, and making his bed), then she may be whipped.

By contrast, the Ra'avad, Tur, and Rosh (the Tur is quoted by R' Karo and Hagahot Maimonut, and the Rosh is cited by the Tur) say that wife-beating is unheard of, and that the wife may refuse to do any labor, as long as she realizes that concommitantly, she won't be provided for by her husband.

Recall that Maimonides and R' Karo were living in Egypt and the Ottoman Empire, respectively, both Muslim lands.

The European rabbis seem to say two distinct things:
1) "I have never heard of such a thing" (Ra'avad), "Such a thing is not done" (Rabbenu Tam), "has a sin in his hands" (Rama) - Apparently, they frowned on the very concept of wife-beating.
2) Whereas the rabbis of Muslims land upheld the Talmudic obligatory labors (washing the husband's face, making his bed, and mixing his cup of wine), the European rabbis seem to have devalued these labors. We saw that the Tur (quoted by R' Karo and Hagahot Maimoniut) said that a woman may refuse to work in return for her husband not providing for her, and he (unlike R' Karo) did not distinguish between her refusing to "sew" and her refusing to do the three customary labors. Whereas R' Karo and the rabbis of the Muslim lands seem to have upheld the special character of these three labors aside from "sewing", and forbidden her to refuse to do these labors at all, the European rabbis seem to have granted women far greater freedom in refusing to work, whether in the three labors or in "sewing" (with the concommitant right of the husband to thereupon refuse to feed her). It seems that the European rabbis had a different conception of what a wife was obligated to do for her husband. But this is an entirely separate area of history or sociology, entirely distinct from the topic of wife-beating.

But if my second assertion is correct, we'd have to be careful. Ra'avad says both "I have never seen a basis for this" and "one reduces her provisions"; we know that Ra'avad frowns on wife-beating, but is it because (a) the very concept is abhorrent to him, or (b) because he simply feels that a woman is free to refuse to do anything she wishes to refuse to do, as long as she consents to not being provided for? That is, is Ra'avad's criticism based on a different conception of what a husband is allowed to do, or a different conception of what a wife is required to do? I suspect that both are at play; likely, the same authority who grants greater power to women (allowing them, like the European rabbis do, to refuse to do the three customary labors for her husband) will also grant less power to the husband (forbidding him to ever whip his wife, for any reason at all, as a matter of principle, regardless of how recalcitant the wife is in her duties). But I am not sure; the point is, we must be aware that two factors are at play here in the European disfavor for wife-beating. I don't know enough Jewish history to pass definitive sentence here. With the Tur as well, his criticism of wife-beating is apparently based on the notion that the wife may refuse to work in return for the husband's being absolved of the duty to provide for her. In other words, one does not beat his wife simply because he should rather refuse to feed her. It is not clear whether the Tur has any moral qualms with beating a wife per se.

With the Rama, things are clearer; he equates wife-beating with beating anyone at all, and says the husband is sinning. Obviously, he abhorres the very concept of wife-beating, irrespective of what a wife is or isn't obligated to do for her husband. A wife, no matter how recalcitrant, is not to be whipped.

Now, everyone holds that a wife may forgo being sustained, and thereby forgo the obligation to work for her husband. However, Rabbi Karo evinces a disagreement with the Ashkenazim on a wife's duties and what constitutes "work": the Ashkenazim hold just as a wife may avoid the obligation to "sew" by forgoing her being sustained, so too she can avoid the obligation to wash her husband's face, mix his cup, and make his bed. Rabbi Karo, on the other hand, views the three obligations as entirely separate from "sewing". From a formal legal standpoint, Rabbi Karo's viewpoint seems more correct. The idea behind a wife's avoiding work by forgoing being provided for, stems from the assumption that a husband and wife can make any financial arrangements they desire. Ordinarily, however, a husband worked and the wife was provided for, and therefore the husband was allowed to force his wife to work (with certain conditions, such as that her work not be degrading), and he'd get to keep her income. The idea was that the husband did the real bread-winning, and the wife would knit a few kippot on the side (as my rabbi often puts it) for spare change. If the wife wanted to pay her own way, however, she was allowed to declare such, and she was no longer subject to her husband's financial dominion. But finances have nothing to do with the three obligations, i.e. washing his face, mixing his cup, and making his bed. I personally see no reason why a wife should be exempt from these simply because she is paying her own way; financial arrangments have nothing to do with customary tasks of female domesticity. The Ashkenazim hold that just as a woman may exempt herself from working, if she pays her own way, so too she may exempt herself from the three obligations. However, I see no reason to relate her financial freedom with freedom from the three obligations of domesticity. Therefore, regarding the formal technical law, and its exegesis, I'd have to say that Rabbi Karo's explanation seems more reasonable. Just because I support the Ashkenazi sentiments and conceptions of marriage, doesn't mean I cannot support the Sephardic interpretation as far as formal technical exegesis goes. And likewise, just because I support the Sephardic interpretation on formal legal exegesis doesn't mean I don't prefer the Ashkenazi sentiments.

I realized later that there is another way to interpret the Ra'avad: The Ra'avad says that one does not whip his wife, because he rather withholds food from her until she submits. I assumed the Ra'avad agrees with the Tur, Rosh, and Hagahot Maimoniut that a wife is not obligated at all in the three obligations, if she forgoes being provided for. But it occurred to me that perhaps the Ra'avad holds something else: perhaps he, like Rabbi Karo, holds that a woman is always obligated in the three obligations, even if she forgoes being sustained and thus forgoes the obligation to "sew". But if Ra'avad holds like this, the position of Rabbi Karo, why would he, unlike Rabbi Karo, object to wife-beating? It occurred to me that perhaps Ra'avad has a moral objection to wife-beating; perhaps, like the Rama, he holds that to beat one's wife is morally objectionable, regardless of whether the wife is violating her duties or not. If so, then Ra'avad can hold - like Rabbi Karo, and unlike Tur, Rosh, and Hagahot Maimoniut - that a woman is always obligated in the three obligations, and yet he can nevertheless object to wife-beating, on absolute moral grounds. But to confirm or disprove all this, I'd have to investigate the Ra'avad's writings on a wife's domestic obligations beyond the context of wife-beating. In the meantime, I'll tentatively follow Occam's Razor and assume that Ra'avad holds like the Tur and Rosh and Hagahot Maimoniut that a wife can avoid being subject to the three obligations as long as she forgoes being sustained by her husband.

If anyone is troubled by marriage being discussed as a financial transaction, we should clarify: that is exactly what marriage used to be. To quote myself from here:
So? It was the Medieval era! People around the world would marry their daughters off, often to their business partner's son or some such, without any expection of personal combatibility. The Gemara says a woman would rather be married to a schmuk than to no one. I think it is obvious that this fits with the social mores of the time; people married for economic and reproductive reasons, not romantic ones. Of course, people expected different things out of marriage than we do today, so they weren't disappointed. Men expected someone to cook and bear children, and women expected someone to earn a wage. Obviously, today, marriage does not operate like this, and no one will dispute this.

Of course, a few people inexplicably think the Gemara's statement (that a woman would rather be married to a schmuk than to no one) still applies, even as they simultaneously themselves marry for romance and have their children do the same.


One thought that occurs to me: just because Maimonides and Rabbu Karo permit wife-beating, does not necessarily mean it was common. The Torah demands the death-penalty for certain crimes, but Jewish law usually took this as a threat and an idle deterrent, and not something to be ordinarily acted upon; the Talmud declares that a court which executes someone more than once in seven years is a murderous court. So I'm not sure we can infer from the *permission* to whip a wife, that this is something that actually occurred regularly. On the other hand, perhaps I'm being apologetic here; perhaps indeed the permission here implies that it was in fact common in Muslim lands for Jewish husbands to beat their wives. I don't know.

I found the following discussion as well: http://www.myjewishlearning.com/life/Relationships/Spouses_and_Partners/Domestic_Violence.shtml

For a less objective historical/scholarly view, but one that would demonstrate - if apologetically - what the average Jew today would believe, see this essay by the late Chief Rabbi of Britain (died in the 1930s), Rabbi Dr. J. H. Hertz: http://www.come-and-hear.com/talmud/nashim_h.html.

/* ******** Google Analytics ******** */ /* ******** Amazon ******** */