The Jewish Power Blog: Deep State
The Hasmoneans (Macabees), leaders of the revolt against the Seleucids in the second century BCE, were of priestly descent. The fact that they took over the monarchy and served as both priests and kings (kings were supposed to be of Davidic descent – tribe of Judah; priests were from Levi) was apparently unpopular: Josephus reports that when King Alexander Yannai (126-76 BCE) performed the water libation ritual on Sukkot, the massed population pelted him with their etrogim. (Antiquities 13:13) Yannai had flaunted the constitution. The separation of powers must be respected; you can’t be both priest and king!
In the course of the Israelites’ forty years in the desert, two hierarchies of authority had been established: Moses, who came to power as a charismatic leader chosen by God (and who, because of his unique bicultural upbringing, had a degree of power outside the confines of the Israelite community); and the priesthood, responsible for the nation’s relationship with God through the elaborate sacrificial system (detailed in the book of Leviticus).
There was no obvious mechanism for choosing the leader to follow Moses; God advised him, and Joshua was appointed. After that, it seems that there was no national government for perhaps two centuries; only the “Judges,” military leaders who arose to resolve particular crises involving various combinations of tribes. When this ad hoc system proved inadequate to respond to the powerful Philistine enemy, the people decided to unite under a king, and from then on the national government was a monarchy. It took a generation of disorder for this to become hereditary under David; but even then, the nominally automatic succession somehow left room for plenty of intrigue and disruption over the generations.
The priesthood, on the other hand, was a stable hereditary class of experts, passing their sacred knowledge from generation to generation, to make sure there would be no disruption of the Temple service seen as central to the nation’s identity and wellbeing. And this expertise went beyond sacrifices, including how to respond to sickness, drought, even preparations for war (Deut. 20).
This model, of a type of leadership chosen, in some way, by the people, existing alongside an expert class of leaders insulated (theoretically) from political debate and drama, was not unique to ancient Israel, but has always been with us. While we expect to have a say in our government’s decisions to declare war, set policy goals, proclaim uniting values, we also expect that that government will see to it that the mail gets delivered, the roads paved, the schools and hospitals supported and supervised, the army armed, etc. Many of these functions must continue, stably, without being buffeted by political winds. That’s why ancient Israel had the priesthood; that’s why modern states have the civil service. Sometimes the lines between the two hierarchies get blurred or disputed. (See the priests’ unfortunate involvement in the power struggle between David and Saul in 1 Samuel 21-22). But to suggest that all power should be concentrated in the political sphere – that somehow the existence of a hierarchy of professional experts with authority to regulate schools, supervise the police, balance the budget, protect the environment, muster the troops is undemocratic or illegitimate – feels absurd.
For example, Israel Katz, our current minister of defense, has spent his entire career as a political activist, legislator, and minister. His academic training is in public administration. He has also served as minister of agriculture, transportation, foreign affairs, finance, intelligence, and energy. He may be a wise man and a quick learner, but it is obvious that without the established bureaucracies and their experts in those ministries, he could never have been expected to head them.
This gets a little trickier when the area is law. If the political leadership has the power to make laws, then how can a professional in a bureaucratic position tell them how to interpret or enforce or obey those laws? Who is in charge? In ancient Israel, there was a constitution, the Torah, which the priests were tasked with studying, preserving, and applying. The king was to seek their guidance. We, alas, have no constitution to serve as a bedrock of authority to be interpreted to guide the government. Thus, the professional class – attorney general’s office, courts – are open to accusations of subjectivity, of political bias, basing their claims on general principles (such as “reasonableness” or due process) which, it turns out, are not universally accepted.
If the political leadership insists (and demonstrates) that the professional hierarchy is to be ignored, overruled, or eliminated because it seeks to impose limits on the freedom of action of that leadership, then the basic trust in that hierarchy is undermined across the board. If the minister of justice can lock the attorney general out of her office and publicly humiliate the chief justice, then why must I trust and obey the policeman who pulls me over, or the teacher assigned to teach my child “values,” or the public health authority mandating vaccination? Or… the army computer calling me up for reserve duty? If there is no deep state, maybe there can be no state at all.
We’ve waited 78 years since the Declaration of Independence called for the ratification of a constitution within six months. It seems that the consequences of that delay are only becoming more dire with time; the current limbo feels increasingly unsustainable.
