A Jewish State
What sort of country is Israel? Some claim that it is a western one, because of its strong pluralism, democratic values, and the historical Jewish contribution to the development of social welfare and judeochristian ideology. Some claim its a Middle Eastern one, because of the harsh geographic and political realities that force the state of Israel to be as brazen and underhanded as its neighbors, as well as the indelible cultural mark of its mizrahi majority. Most amusingly perhaps, I’ve even heard it said that Israel is a Balkan state, because of its deep-rooted soviet ethos and its roiling ethnic conflict.
None of these categories are wrong per se, but none of them are very right. Often, in discourse amongst Israelis, there is a penchant to say “we’re not a western nation, we need to stop behaving like one.” This is usually said in the context of shirking international scrutiny and turning towards the kind of brutalism that has served the interests of illiberal and authoritarian regimes in the MENA region. On the opposite end of the spectrum, there are those defending our liberal ethos and our compassionate spirit by claiming that we should want to be a Western nation, and therefore enjoy the benefits and the yoke of brotherhood amongst nations.
These common refrains in Israeli coffeeshops nationwide miss the point, which is so simplistic that it is nearly funny. Israel is not Western, nor is it Middle Eastern, or even Balkan. Israel is Jewish.
Of course, from a comparative politics standpoint, distinction is always a little awkward. Answering the question of what kind of politics and culture Israel possesses becomes substantially trickier when one decline to offer comparison. Evidently, even Israelis struggle with answering it. The last jewish state existed in a very different context, millenia ago, and applying its lessons in a comparative framework is a precarious project at best. That doesn’t mean that great zionist thinkers didn’t ponder this question. Martin Buber, for one, endeavored to answer exactly this, and derive how Jewish character would and ought to color Israel’s public life.
Indeed, there are lessons to be learned from Judaism, as a peoplehood and as a religion, as it pertains to the current Israeli political culture. Applying a specifically Jewish analytical framework not only curbs the propensity to descend into binary thinking, but also supplies real tools for making policy choices. Cases of Jewish values influencing Israeli public life are all around us, if only we pay attention.
A clear case of this is the emphasis that Israel places on unity. Unity, not in the positive sense, as a source of benediction, but rather in the negative sense as a bulwark against tyranny. A fundamental trauma of the Jewish existence comes from our diaspora tale, exiled at the hands of the Romans. This disaster is recanted as being a result of baseless hatred, interpreted in the Babylonian Talmud as reference to “paganism, incest, and wanton bloodletting.” Particularly the wanton bloodletting, the infighting between the emergent sects of Judaism, has sunk deep into the particulars of Jewish thought. This cautionary tale helped no doubt enscone and retain an ever differentiating Jewish diaspora. It also emerges in our political dialogue today. Last year during the Judicial Reforms, one of the more powerful invocations against the government was the claim that they were “tearing the nation apart.” True, accusations of diviseness are not uncommon in today’s politics, but rarely, if ever, are they the central argument. Another great example is the precedent, recently challenged by the incumbent government, of automatically gird together national unity governments in the face of existential threat, like war or plague.
Another case is that of the importance that Israelis place on the lives of captives. The Rambam is quoted as saying “there is no greater commandment than the redemption of captives.” This is not a hollow epitaph. Jewish communities throughout the medeival period retained coffers for this express purpose, and this continued into the modern day. The Chabad Movement even maintained secret networks within the Soviet Union to aid, smuggle, and redeem refusniks. The emphasis on redemption of captives rings in our ears now in the wake of October 7th. It dictates our warpath, and any deviation from the path towards redemption triggers intense anxiety in the nation.
Additionally, and perhaps globally the most well known, is the case of Tikkun Olam, repairing the world. Originally in the Talmud, it referred to a kind of personal responsibility, one that in the laws of divorce and marriage protected the honor, finances, and spirit of the other partner, as well as the community at large. In the Middle Ages, this concept was expanded and clarified as a kind of global reparation and preservation project. One in which first, one was ordered to be attuned to God’s pain, and then to elevate that awareness to a priority in all ones actions. In modern times, Jewish thinkers both directly and indirectly took this kind of social consciousness practice and helped develop the basis of modern liberalism. In time, Jews used these new tenets to build their own State too.
This list of moral influences is totally incomplete. Jewish life is rich with relevance to modern Israeli life. Further, Judaisms influence is much more than skin deep. The Jewish character of this nation is not a thin veneer of menoras, judean lions, and other antiquated symbology. It is a penetrating, definitive aspect of national life. Indeed it may be difficult to compare the Jewish State to the Christian, Islamic, or agnostic State, but it is realistic as well as exciting to compare Judaism to the State.
But then, what do we do with all this? Well, in the vein of comparative politics, knowing how one is distinctt goes a long way towards explaining in what ways we are all similar. In comparing Judaism with Jewish Politics, we thereby explain our divergence from the fraternity of nations, and therefore understand our place within it better.
Further, and more important than answering the question who are we amongst the nations? is attending to the question what do we, as Jews, do? Suddenly, Israel is free, untethered from the limitations of “bad neighborhood” militarism, or the Realpolitic of the West. We can bravely engage in Jewish Politics, informed by a Jewish worldview and moral vocabulary, that is robust in its own right.
At a time when there Jews in diaspora and at home are undergoing great tumult, Political Judaism is being challenged in ways that were once reserved for religious practice and dress; the oppression of assimilation is upon our political culture, and we are being asked to choose between false choices. We are in need of a public of fully realized Jewish souls, as well as a political class whose foci are broader than just the narrow goals of self-preservation or beating back the baying hounds of war. We need a class of philosophically minded leaders who legislate, mandate, and live a Jewish existence, and whose judaism is deeper than populist nativism.
Today, the only part of Israeli government that reliably inbue their statecraft with their Judaism is the Haredi Bloc, but this is a woeful state. If you only became familiar with Israeli politics in the 21st century, you’d think that Judaism was a religious relic reserved for the pious and orthodox, but this is wildly untrue. Judaism as a community, as a peoplehood, should inform every part of our politics, even the liberal and secular ones, and allow us to make noble, practical, and moral choices in war and in law that come from within us, not from without.