A Society Fragmented: Pluralism or Isolation
A Society Fragmented: Pluralism or Isolation
Yigal Bin-Nun
Israeli society is marked by a structural fragmentation that divides it into isolated groups based on ethnic and religious criteria. One can assert that Israel today is home to several distinct communities: Arabs live separately from Jews, ultra-Orthodox Jews are withdrawn into themselves, and settlers adopt a lifestyle akin to a “state within a state.” This reality resembles a form of functional apartheid. Ultra-Orthodox Jews, Arabs, and settlers stand apart from the rest of the Israeli population through their lack of interaction in daily life: they do not live in the same neighborhoods, do not share meals, do not send their children to the same schools, and do not intermarry. Israel is thus one of the few developed countries in the world where citizenship identity is officially determined by ethnic origin.
The growing hold of religion on the public sphere is only one aspect of the broader issue of ethnocentrism. Religious extremism and identity regression impose a heavy burden on all citizens. Today, Jewish identity is defined according to ritualistic criteria, even though its spiritual or theological dimension is largely absent. Indeed, it is possible for an Israeli to be an atheist, anti-religious, or converted to another faith while still retaining Israeli status. Conversely, a non-Jew who wishes to share in the collective destiny of Israel and its people can only do so by converting to a religion that the majority of Israelis themselves do not observe.
According to current legislation, Judaism in Israel is not based on religious adherence but on presumed ethnic origin. However, a state founded on the “purity” of such an uncertain lineage inevitably drifts toward autocracy, thereby jeopardizing its sustainability. An exclusive ethnic identity quickly degenerates into racism. Modern democracies have managed to overcome this pitfall by removing any reference to ethnic origin or religion (referred to as “nationality” in the vocabulary of the Israeli Ministry of the Interior) from their administrative documents, whether public or confidential.
It is time to stop behaving as if we were fundamentally different from the rest of humanity in a now-globalized world. We can abandon the perception of ourselves as a “race apart” and aspire to become a normal people, free of segregation based on ethnicity, religion, or gender. Israeli nationalism itself should not be seen as an end in itself. In today’s context, nationalism appears primarily as an organizational framework that allows citizens to access the scientific and economic benefits of globalization — a defining feature of the 21st century.
From Sacrificial Worship to a Codified Religion
There was no such thing as “Judaism” in the ancient kingdoms of Israel and Judah. In antiquity, religion as we understand it today did not yet exist. Instead, there were sacrificial cults consisting of bloody or vegetal offerings presented to the deity on temple altars. Popular belief attributed anthropomorphic characteristics to the deity: it needed a residence — the temple — and food consisting of sacrificial meat and vegetal offerings. Like humans, this deity could become angry, reward, promise, command, forgive, be jealous, or show compassion. Priests established the rules for sacrifices, which were supposed to enable the deity to atone for the worshipper’s sins and grant them divine favor. The prophetic writers, however, rejected this arrangement, which they considered simplistic. They vehemently condemned sacrificial practices and instead promoted an ideal of justice and moral conduct.
It was only when sacrifices began to decline in antiquity that actual religions were born. In Israel, this transformation occurred after the destruction of the Temple by Titus, which followed the disastrous revolt against Rome. The new religion, born in a context devoid of temple and sacrificial clergy, gradually canonized the five books of the Torah and replaced sacrifices with prayer.
More precisely, the importance of sacrificial worship began to wane as early as the second century BCE, with the emergence of a Judean diaspora outside Jerusalem, especially in Alexandria, Egypt. Already at that time, many Hellenes were drawn to the Judean writings, their rich literary corpus, festivals, and customs. These sympathizers, not of Judean descent and living far from the Temple, gave rise — in Egypt, Cyrenaica, Cyprus, and Antioch — to a new form of religiosity, free from sacrifices. This process accelerated after the diaspora revolts of 125 CE and the massive migration of Judeans to Carthage and the western regions of the Mediterranean.
The Foundational Transformations of Judaism
According to my analysis, five major turning points marked the formation of Judaism, each so fundamental that, had it not occurred, the very existence of this religion would have been compromised. The first turning point was the composition of Deuteronomy in the Kingdom of Judah around 622 BCE, during the reign of Josiah, and its subsequent dissemination in the post-monarchical period. Its author, whom I identify as Shaphan ben Azaliah, initiated a cultic reform aimed at replacing the prevailing polytheism with a minimalist form of worship devoted to a “unique Yahweh,” centralized in Jerusalem, without other gods or representations, save for that of Yahweh. Although this reform ultimately failed, its codification in writing exerted a lasting influence on the structuring of post-sacrificial Judaism.
The second turning point occurred after the destruction of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar in 586 BCE. This defeat shattered the belief in Yahweh’s ability to protect His people and His sanctuary, provoking a major theological crisis. Exile consciousness emerged as a central theme in the literature of the time. Through a reformist rereading of biblical history, adapted to the conditions of the exiles in Babylonia, the exile was interpreted as divine punishment for the people’s transgressions. This interpretation became a structuring element of post-monarchical Judaism. From that point on, the intimate connection between Judaism and exile made any durable separation from the diasporic condition extremely difficult.
Under Persian imperial influence, a new conception of divinity arose in Judah: God came to be understood as a supreme deity, particularly in the texts of Deutero-Isaiah. Without denying the existence of other deities, this conception signaled a theology with universal aspirations. A further turning point came with the revolt against Rome in 70 CE, the Diaspora revolts (125–127 CE), and especially the Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible, which made it possible for people outside the Jewish ethnic lineage to integrate into the Jewish people.
The dissemination of the Talmud in the 10th century, followed by the composition of the Shulḥan ‘Arukh in the 16th century, marked the final stages in the constitution of rabbinic Judaism. Unlike Christianity or Islam, rabbinic Judaism does not rest on articles of faith but on the observance of commandments.
As we have seen, cult alone does not constitute a religion: while it primarily relies on sacrifices, religion, by contrast, entails the existence of a canonical text and a structured doctrine. Under Persian and Hellenistic influence, Judaism gradually adopted the idea of a universal God, although sacrificial worship did not disappear until the destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans. In the Hellenistic period, Judaism and Christianity both drew inspiration from the biblical library and competed to attract Hellenized populations. Following the disastrous Bar Kokhba revolt, Judaism became increasingly isolated from its surroundings, and the authors of the Talmud gradually imposed their vision. Rabbinic Judaism relegated the written Torah to the sacred realm, basing its practice on the Oral Torah, in a context of exile. The principles of halakhic Judaism were thus formulated by the “sages of blessed memory,” well after the demise of sacrificial worship. However, the rabbinic community exerted no influence over the Judeo-Hellenic world, particularly in Alexandria and Cyrene.
Rabbinic Judaism: Continuities and Ruptures
Today, although Judaism is defined as a religion, it lacks articles of faith comparable to those of Christianity or Islam; it is essentially based on the strict observance of the commandments codified in the Shulḥan ‘Arukh. Rabbinic Judaism, now hegemonic in both Israel and the Diaspora, relies on the Oral Torah, often significantly divergent from the biblical legal corpus. The Pharisees claimed that this Oral Torah — that is, the halakha — was transmitted to Moses at Sinai, thereby granting it the same authority as the written Torah. In practice, however, rabbinic Judaism has marginalized the biblical laws, now obsolete, and has gradually distanced itself from them, giving rise to a new religion.
From a historical perspective, Judaism has continuously evolved, often implicitly, with halakha adapting under the pressure of social realities. These transformations frequently contributed to the Jew’s isolation from his non-Jewish or secular environment. Some Jewish communities chose to adopt the principle that, in cases of conflict between religious law and state law, the latter should prevail, thereby adapting rabbinic jurisprudence accordingly.
In theory, since halakha is of divine origin, it permits no compromise and imposes upon every Jew the obligation to observe the commandments, regardless of personal belief. Thus, Judaism presents itself as a religion that applies to any individual born to a Jewish mother — barring conversion — while refusing to impose its rules on non-Jews, and making their integration particularly difficult. Consequently, the secular demand not to be subject to religious injunctions is perceived as absurd by rabbinic Judaism. The attempts of Maimonides and other thinkers to define Jewish “principles of faith” have failed; Judaism continues to function based on strict observance of the 613 commandments. It thus appears as an “ethno-religion”: an imaginary ethnic group whose members are defined by familial or communal lineage rather than individual faith. In modern times, some have forged a non-religious, extraterritorial nationalism based on a fictitious common denominator — a supposedly genetic origin with no scientific basis, contradicted by historical facts.
The Radicalization of the Religious World
Today, Jewish halakha is undergoing one of the most profound transformations in its history. Beneath the surface, religious and ultra-Orthodox circles are being shaken by rapid and dramatic changes. These upheavals are so significant that their leadership elites have lost control over their followers and now attempt to reassert order by hardening their positions and introducing new halakhic restrictions aimed at curbing destabilization. In the absence of a coherent intellectual or theological response to this crisis, the rabbinic establishment has turned away from the study of Judaism, investing its resources in the secular political sphere and drawing its legitimacy from the machinery of the state. Ultra-Orthodox politics has thus focused its efforts on instrumentalizing secular institutions in order to consolidate communal isolation and prevent access to education, thereby maintaining its followers in ignorance. Having abandoned Judaism to its own devices, religious authorities now invest in the realm of secularism.
No halakhic authority has had the courage to denounce the growing influence of magical-religious practices: tomb worship, amulets, spells, curses, and incantations. No legal authority has dared to condemn the rise of miracle-working rabbis who exploit the distress of the most vulnerable for profit, nor the expanding rabbinic criminality. Judaism has plunged into mysticism, falling prey to populist practices such as setting up tefillin booths in secular neighborhoods or promoting simplistic slogans like “We love you, Yahweh.” Will a figure ever emerge capable of returning Judaism to the critical and enlightened spirit of the Middle Ages? Will we see again thinkers of the stature of Maimonides, Ibn Gabirol, Abraham ibn Ezra, or David Kimhi? Will a master of halakha have the audacity to break the chains of existing legislation to adapt it to contemporary realities? If the current moral drift is not contained, the religion as we know it may well collapse before our eyes — much like communism, whose fall was both sudden and unforeseen.
Despite cultural advancements, Israeli society remains deeply segmented. One could argue that it harbors several distinct societies: Arabs live apart from Jews, the Haredim have isolated themselves from broader society, and the settlers live in a parallel state. Haredim, Arabs, and settlers differ from other citizens in that they do not share places of residence, meals, educational systems, or marriage ties. This rigid compartmentalization carries worrying demographic consequences. Israel is one of the rare countries where citizens’ national identity is officially defined according to their ethnic origin.
The Powerlessness of Secularism in the Face of Religious Hardening
Faced with this situation, the segment of society labeled “secular” fails to offer a solid ideological alternative to the excesses of religion. Initiatives aimed at fostering dialogue between religious and secular populations are most often one-sided. The secular individual frequently harbors a sense of inferiority toward the “cabinet of Jewish books,” while the religious person typically feels no obligation to compromise with secularism. Contemporary halakha is not oriented toward accommodation but toward doctrinal rigidity. The life of the believer is governed by dogmatic prescriptions, whereas the secular person endeavors to shape their own path—one marked by doubt, dilemmas, and personal experience—in a world grounded in pluralism, methodological skepticism, and rational inquiry. Society tends to attribute particular sensibilities to the religious that it demands the secular respect, while failing to recognize equivalent principles that the religious should, in turn, be expected to honor.
Secular individuals often continue to observe certain religious rites as mere cultural traditions, stripped of any spiritual significance—meaningless ceremonies, disembodied symbols. It would be futile to ignore the reality: the human yearning for the sacred and the wondrous is as intrinsic as the darker impulses that culture strives to channel.
Secular people have grown accustomed to justifying themselves by insisting they are not “anti-religious,” but simply opposed to religious coercion. The term “anti-religious” is perceived as a challenge to each person’s right to live according to their faith. Yet reducing the debate between the religious and the secular to the sole issue of coercion prevents any in-depth critique of the religious concept itself, and of Judaism as a religion. Israeli society today consists of communities that are largely impermeable and isolated from one another. More than seventy years after the founding of the State of Israel, and over a century after the first Jewish settlements in the Land of Israel, religious and secular Jews—with rare exceptions—do not share meals, marriages, education, workplaces, or everyday life. It is worth recalling that the initial break between early Christians and Judeans stemmed from their inability to share a common table. What will become of religious Zionists, settlers, and the ultra-Orthodox in the future? No one can say. What seems certain, however, is that they will not disappear; they will evolve from within, and may eventually integrate into a broader society from which their leaders still seek to isolate them.
