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Our attention this past year has been so grabbed by issues of global significance, that it is sometimes easy to ignore societal trends unless they explode into an act that outrages us. The riots in areas of London and other places in England were such a case in point. They did not occur in a vacuum, it was just that our attention was elsewhere, detuned to kindling that waited for a spark to ignite it.
Such has also been the case with our attention on Israeli society and in particular segregation of women in ultra-orthodox circles and extreme responses to Palestinian and left-leaning NGOs. We have seen the horrific work of the ‘price-tag’ hooligans who committed arson against mosques and terrorised leftish politicians and their supporters. We have lived with the concept of ‘mehadrin,’ gender-segregated buses since 2006 when Miriam Shear was assaulted for refusing to give up her seat to a male passenger and move to the back of the bus.
Maybe it was the lack of other news but the focus on abuse by men from the Sicarii - an extreme charedi, ultra-orthodoxy sect - in Beit Shemesh, of girls as young as 8 attending a state-funded national-religious school – calling them ‘prostitutes’ and being spat on – has awakened Israeli society from its slumber and demands our attention.
It demands attention for many reasons but I want to highlight two this morning. The first relates to democracy in Israel and the second to an interesting and nuanced reading of the situation from a reforming voice within Tolodot Aharon, the charedi grouping, from which some have become part of the Sicarii.
I will try to distance myself from comments about this particular government because the underlying issue relates to the destructive combination of Synagogue and State in Israel. The ongoing politicisation of religion in Israel is a growing sore that is already an hereditary condition. A system that allows the religious and ultra-Orthodox parties - Shas, United Torah Judaism, Habayit Hayehudi, National Union etc none of which have any women in the Knesset, to hold high office and siphon budgets to serve interests that harbour further segregation is rotten. Add to it the inability of mainstream politicians working within the system to see past political expediency, no end is in sight.
The system, governments and apathy amongst the secular and religious-Zionist public majority have allowed religion, not just to enter politics but to dominate it. Local areas are governed by charedi mayors who represent a minority of potential voters. Whole government departments are run with a charedi agenda. Neighbourhoods have been turned into no-go areas for those without the ‘right’ attire or demeanour.
Martin Luther King, Jr. once said that, “more than condemning the bad people, we must condemn the silence of the good.” This is as true of the Israeli Government and the by-standing public, as the Charedi Rabbis who have not condemned the Sicarii.
Yet I have read in Haaretz of an interesting point of view raised by Shmuel Pappenheim. He is a Beit Shemesh resident - where the recent troubles have been centred - who, in the past “was frequently dispatched to represent the official, extreme anti-Zionist line and to defend his sect, Toldot Aharon. Now he has emerged as a sworn reformist: He is studying for a degree at Bar-Ilan University and heads an office encouraging ultra-Orthodox employment in Beit Shemesh.”
He suggests that what Israel is experiencing is akin to the response to the reformation of Judaism in the Enlightment of the 18th and 19th centuries in Europe. Ultra-orthodoxy has found itself surrounded by a bold, secular society coupled with a modern religious-Zionism that is not unattractive to many in the ultra-orthodox world. Tiny minorities, like the Sicarii and the so-called ‘Jewish taliban women’ who yearn greater ritual purity and segregation than that enforced on their Muslim sisters, create extreme barriers. Yet Pappenheim points out that this response does not represent the charedi majority.
He cites, for example, that when rabbis call for charedim to leave academia, the army and professions and to stop using modern technologies there is no overwhelming response. The charedi rabbis are fighting a losing battle against progression. He says of them: “The religious public is heading toward something great, and the rabbis' attempts to stop this are like the rooster running in circles after being beheaded." Of the extreme response of the Sicarii who would abuse young girls on their way to school and instigate riots on the streets of Beit Shemesh, he suggests that they are acting out of frustration, not ideology. "They see society around them progressing and are frustrated. They do not really think; they just act violently for the sake of causing action and chaos."
Pappenheim and other charedi reformists, who risk personal attack and ostracisation to speak up, provide an interesting train of thought. They believe that the Sicarii should be clamped down on but that the charedi majority who seek to be engaged in the army, academia and the professions need support from the government and general public. What is called for is a nuanced response not a polarized reaction that demonises all charedim.
In the words of Hagai Segal, “The ultra-Orthodox community suspects that the major campaign against women’s exclusion is not premised on frank concern for women, but rather, on deep hatred for charedim. Hence, instead of developing anger at the violent minority within it, the charedi community is developing a feeling of collective persecution. It feels that there is no point in protesting against the radicals, because in any case the outside world despises the radicals and the moderates equally.”
Our world is crying out for leaders who are able to understand or at least, listen to those who strive to understand, underlying issues in society, and do not respond to situations in ways that are self-serving. This week, F W de Klerk spoke on his role in bringing an end to apartheid in South Africa. What motivates a leader to take action that isn't necessarily in their own political, personal or class interest? He says that it was the recognition that his country was on the brink of disaster, a situation that would bring bloodshed and hurt.
In Judah’s beseeching speech to the disguised Joseph in this morning’s parasha, we find an individual vayigash, approaching the other in a way that places him at risk but striving for a deeper understanding. His words seek out the listener, attempting to envelop him, to see himself in the story. Even if the listener had not have been his brother, the case presented was one that sought a response that would not provide collective damnation for the individual case.
Joseph’s immediate response was to identify himself firmly in the story. His later, nuanced response, was to fit his family into the new reality of the society that he lived and governed in. He placed the family within but with distance. He did not place them in the palace but in Goshen, an appropriate place for them to prosper and play their part in wider society.
Israel must address a system that allows for polarization of opinion relating to religion because of its over-politicization. It needs leaders who can work in the national interest and not for political expediency. Above all, it needs those who can act with “confidence and strength, sensitivity and humility:” Those who can approach and take the first step toward a face-to-face encounter, allowing the other to reveal their true identity. Understanding is found when it is sought. “By stepping forward into a new experience, or coming face-to-face with a challenging person or piece of learning, we enter into a relationship that is scary but intimate, honest, exciting and holy (Esther D. Kustanowitz in Limmud Parashat Vayigash 5772).”
May it be so in this new secular year, for all societies and for our own relationships. Amen.
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