Jewish Unity: Getting Beyond the Platitudes

Talk about Jewish unity and loving all Jews often becomes empty platitudes. No one will disagree with these sentiments (It is akin to disliking Mom and apple pie) but they quickly dissolve after utterance without making any impact. The same person who declares his love of each member of Am Yisrael will a moment later speak vehemently against his political opponents. Moving towards authentic Jewish unity requires difficult steps that depend on novel modes of thinking and I will now outline five such maneuvers.

Let us look back at the failures of the second temple period. Both the Talmud and Josephus make it clear that internal discord doomed the Jews at the time of the Roman Jewish War. This can be understood both metaphysically, God punished them for their hatred, and practically, a people cannot defeat the most powerful empire of the day if they are busy killing each other. One cannot hold out during a siege if one faction burns the food supplies.

An extended aggadic section in Gittin (55b-58a) relates the stories that led up to hurban habayit and a close read of these tales helps elucidate the principles we need.

Charitable Reading:

The destruction of Jerusalem came through a Kamza and a Bar Kamza in this way. A certain man had a friend Kamza and an enemy Bar Kamza. He once made a party and said to his servant, Go and bring Kamza. The man went and brought Bar Kamza. When the man [who gave the party] found him there he said, You are my enemy; what are you doing here? Get out. Said the other: Since I am here, let me stay, and I will pay you for whatever I eat and drink. He said, I won’t. Then let me give you half the cost of the party. No, said the other. Then let me pay for the whole party. He still said, No, and he took him by the hand and put him out. Said the other, Since the Rabbis were sitting there and did not stop him, this shows that they agreed with him. I will go and inform against them, to the Government. (Gittin 55b-56a)

Bar Kamtza asserts that the rabbis stood there while he was publically shamed and said nothing because they are pleased with such behavior. This seems a rather uncharitable reading. Perhaps they do object to the host’s cruelty but they were afraid to speak up due to their fear of the rich and powerful host of the party. Yes, cowardice is also a moral flaw but it is not the same as enjoying another’s public humiliation.

Our current political climate often leads to a hermeneutic of suspicion in which each group attributes sinister motivations to the other. Those in favor of a hostage deal accuse their opponents of indifference to the plight of the hostages when in truth, the latter may legitimately feel that allowing any leeway to Hamas will lead to greater loss of life. Conversely, those protesting the Haredi draft exemption are accused of disingenuously backing that cause just to bring down the government. Given how the current war clearly shows the need for more troops and the cost in life to various communities, there is every reason to take the complaint at face value.

Admitting Mistakes:

While on the way he made a blemish on its upper lip, or as some say on the eyelid, in a place where we [Jews] count it a blemish but they do not. The Rabbis were inclined to offer it in order not to offend the Government. Said R. Zeharya ben Avkulas to them: People will say that blemished animals are offered on the altar….R. Yohanan thereupon remarked: Through the humility of R. Zeharya b. Avkulas our House has been destroyed, our Temple burnt and we ourselves exiled from our land. (Gittin 56a)

The rabbis prove remarkably good at self-criticism. The first story portrays them as failing to speak up at the party on behalf of Bar Kamtza.  Later, R. Zeharya ben Avkulas fears making the radical ruling to offer a blemished sacrifice in order to avoid the danger of insulting Caesar. The Talmud faults him saying that his excessive humility led to the temple’s destruction. In a later passage we shall soon see, R. Akiva criticizes the decision making of R. Yohanan ben Zakkai. The Gemara is well aware that everyone, including the rabbinic establishment, makes mistakes.

Where can we find this kind of honest discourse in political life? The odds of the left or the right being correct about every issue for the past thirty years are quite small yet no one ever acknowledges having been wrong. Perhaps the left could admit that the Gilad Shalit deal was unreasonably one-sided and that the disengagement from Gaza led to Hamas at the doorstep of communities such as Be’eri. The right could confront the Kahanist extremists in its midst and state that the Egyptian and Jordanian peace deals were positive endeavors (just imagine the Israeli military today facing another front). If a reader does not like my specific examples then, by all means, supply different ones but the principle remains. Make admitting mistakes part of the conversation.

Releasing Violent Forces:

Abba Sikra the head of the biryoni in Jerusalem was the son of the sister of Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai. [The latter] sent to him saying, Come to visit me privately. When he came he said to him, How long are you going to carry on in this way and kill all the people with starvation? He replied: What can I do? If I say a word to them, they will kill me.

When they reached the door, some men wanted to put a sword through the bier. He said to them: They will say. They have stabbed their rabbi. (Gittin 56a)

Abba Sikra, head of the zealots, cannot allow his uncle to leave besieged Jerusalem because his own followers will kill him. Later, when they pretend that R. Yohanan ben Zakkai is dead and needs burial outside the city walls, the argument of “they will say they stabbed their rabbi” dissuades the guards from running a sword through the body to confirm demise. Who are the “they” that will say this? Rashi explains that “they” refers to the Romans. Ben Yehoyada argues that the Romans would have no way of knowing what happened on the Jewish side of the wall and he suggests that “they” refers to other zealots. If so, the tale indicates both that Abba Sikra was frightened of his minions and that various zealots feared each other.

Enflaming the masses and employing forceful rhetoric generates powerful political force but often comes with a price. Leaders who unleash such energy may soon find that they no longer control it and may even have it reverberate back upon themselves. After the French revolutionaries upended the monarchy and after the Russian revolutionaries unseated the Czar, they turned around and slaughtered rival revolutionary groups.

Rhetoric in Israeli political life often steps overboard increasing the danger of resulting violence. If the government is just out to get us, then we can storm into Sde Teiman and harass the army and police. If the other side’s ideas are evil, then we can break into the Kohelet office and harass its head near his home. Of course, Israel has known much worse including politically based murder. Leaders should be wary of where a discourse of demonizing the other leads.

Choosing Your Battles:

As for your question, why if you are a king, I did not come to you till now, the answer is that the biryoni among us did not let me. He said to him; If there is a jar of honey round which a serpent is wound, would they not break the jar to get rid of the serpent? He could give no answer. R. Yosef, or as some say R. Akiva, applied to him the verse, [God] turns wise men backward and makes their knowledge foolish. He ought to have said to him: We take a pair of tongs and grip the snake and kill it, and leave the jar intact. (Gittin 56b)

When Vespasian wants to know why R. Yohanan ben Zakkai took so long to visit him, the latter responds that the zealots prevented him from leaving the city. Vespasian challenges the sage with a parable. If a snake is curled around a jar of honey, would we not break the container in order to rid ourselves of the snake? In other words, get rid of the zealots even at the cost of destroying Jerusalem. R. Yohanan remains silent in response to this argument. Either R. Akiva or R. Yosef criticizes R. Yohanan for not offering an obvious rejoinder. Better to take tongs and remove the snake while preserving the honey.

Why indeed did R. Yohanan not think of this fairly straightforward response? Did the pressure of the moment get to him? Ben Yehoyada gives an alternative explanation. R. Yohanan knew this answer quite well but he thought that beating Vespasian in this particular argument is inconsequential and the real battlefield has to do with the Jewish future. Let Vespasian feel that he has won one as long as he gives in on what truly matters. Having to win every argument and needing to always have the last word sets up an atmosphere of constant contention. Much smarter to divide between core issues and less important matters and to only fight for the former. The judicial reform controversy provides a good example of this principle. The reformers wanted to make several sweeping changes and their opponents refused to budge an inch from the status quo. If each group could relinquish its claims regarding what they deem relatively less important matters, perhaps a compromise could be reached.

The Complexities of Life:

He said; I am now going, and will send someone to take my place. You can, however, make a request of me and I will grant it. He said to him: Give me Yavneh and its Wise Men, and the family chain of Rabban Gamaliel, and physicians to heal R. Zadok. R. Yosef, or some say R. Akiva, applied to him the verse, ‘[God] turn wise men backward and make their knowledge foolish’. He ought to have said to him; Let them [the Jews] off this time. He, however, thought that so much he would not grant, and so even a little would not be saved. (Gittin 56b)

Vespasian takes a liking to R. Yohanan and offers to grant his request. R. Yohanan asks for Yavneh and its sages, the dynasty of R. Gamliel, and a cure for R. Zadok. Again, either R. Akiva or R. Yosef faults our protagonist’s decision making: why not ask the Roman general to spare the temple. Here, the Gemara provides the answer that R. Yohanan feared asking for too much would result in receiving nothing.

At the end of his life, R. Yohanan remains unsure if he will go to Gan Eden or Gehenom (Berakhot 28b). R. Yosef Dov Soloveitchik proposes that he spent the rest of his life unsure if he had made the correct decision when standing before the Roman. R. Yohanan had to make an immediate choice without a chance to think it over or consult with colleagues. Even seeing that his decision enabled Am Yisrael to continue after the temple’s destruction does not prove him right since Vespasian may also have said yes to the more ambitious request. No way to know definitively what the right answer was. This point highlights the intense complexity of such national decisions. In the words of the Rav:

Rav Yochanan had to render his decision instantaneously. The decision was intuitive. Who at the time could foresee how Vespasian would react to a plea to spare Jerusalem? The difficult question, perhaps the most difficult question in Jewish history, Rav Yochanan had to decide by himself, without consultation with colleagues, in a fleeting moment! He was therefore never certain that he had decided correctly.

If the great Rav Yochanan ben Zakkai never ceased blaming himself for that historic decision, assuredly the dilemma of the two paths must always be before us as well. We should not vaingloriously assume that our actions are always the right ones. (The Rav Speaks 51-52)

Acknowledging the difficulty of complicated decisions should make it harder to view our opponents as evil and corrupt even if we think them wrong. There is no easy formula for determining when a hostage deal turns worthwhile. It is hard to arrive at a clear position on what the Gaza government should ideally look like after the war ends. If so, we should look with more sympathy upon those who disagree with us regarding these questions.

Internal discord remains a serious threat to the Jewish state. It emboldens our enemies and makes it harder for us to function with a sense of unified purpose. Imagine a world in which political discourse adopted these five principles. Those speaking publically stated how complex these decisions are, admitted their errors, gave a more charitable interpretation of their opponents, did not feel the need to win every political argument, and understood the dangers of excessive rhetoric. We would live in a much healthier society.

Obviously, individuals cannot single handily change a broad societal trends but we can start with the following steps. We will adopt a more moderate tone in our own conversation, object to rabbis and leaders who fail to adhere to these principles, not follow media that consistently highlight the most extreme voices, and reward with attention newspaper columnists who know how to think critically about both right and left (Makor Rishon‘s Yair Sheleg comes to mind). Societal attitudes can change and every transformation begins with a single step. The third Jewish commonwealth need not repeat the mistakes of bayit sheni.

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