The limits of our tolerance? ‘Mere Civility’ in wartime

Over this past year the Jewish community in the USA has found the limits of its pluralism being stretched to breaking. While there are many whose commitment to Israel has increased significantly since the Hamas attack and hostage-taking in October of last year, there are also many whose ambivalence to Israel has shifted over to outright animosity. How can a community, or a family, whose connection to Israel has been one of its key defining factors for the past fifty years, maintain its sense of self with such a rift in its heart?

The conflict feels insoluble and impenetrable. Everything is urgent. Each person’s opinion is held tightly and passionately, where the other’s opinion feels wrong if not immoral. Our methods of communication use technologies that are far too public, far too widespread, and nowhere near nuanced enough for our needs. Many decry the way others express themselves, but they might really be rejecting what it is they have to say. 

I recently read a superb book by Teresa Bejan called “Mere Civility” that might offer a map for navigating this crisis. “Mere Civility” is a fairly dense historical-theological-philosophical book that addresses a parallel period in time when the English-speaking world was going through its own deep schism – in the 17th and 18th century. People’s deeply held passionate (religious) opinions were becoming dangerously diverse and judgmental. One’s opponents were not merely mistaken; they were going to hell for their opinions. To make matters more complicated, like today, there was a new method of communication. The printing press had brought about a revolutionary shift in sharing information and ideas. 

Bejan reads into that period to find responses to our contemporary challenge: How do we talk to each other when we might hate what the other person has to say? She moves beyond expecting nice words and a gentle tone of voice (what she calls “Civility talk”), and digs into the true vital challenge of toleration. How different can we be while still feeling there is a “we” to hold us together?

Put simply (for less simplicity and perhaps more accuracy, read her excellent book), Bejan suggests there were three different approaches to this challenge.

Civil Silence

We understand that we have different views, and we make sure never to talk about them. Civil Silence is an approach that accepts difference but avoids disagreements.

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Civil Charity

This is an approach that allows for disagreements, but within a carefully prescribed range of consensus. As long as we have x, y, and z in common, I can exercise charity and listen to your stupid ideas about b, c, and d. Bejan suggests that Civil Charity accepts disagreements, but limits difference.

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Mere Civility

This approach apparently emerges with Roger Williams, the person who established Providence, Rhode Island. He was an opinionated preacher who believed we should all say everything we wished, even rudely, and so long as it did not lead to actual physical violence it was good. This approach was kind of radical, allowing Roger Williams to shout at people that they were going to hell, while continuing to be their neighbor. 

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I think that before 2023 many Jewish communities and organizations assumed they were fine with Civil Charity – disagreements within assumed limits — but mostly they were going for Civil Silence on Israel. They used the language of pluralism, but mostly relied on the word “hush.” Now many communities are reaching for Civil Charity, but in doing so they are discovering that the outer reaches of consensus required for such a stance are no longer universally accepted. For some Jews simply referring to “the war” rather than “the genocide” is already unacceptable, while for others the use of the word “genocide” in the context of Israel’s actions is unbearable. 

We are beginning to find ourselves in the uncharted regions of Mere Civility, without ever having consciously chosen it and without exploring its potential benefits. Our Civil Charity about Israel was built on mutual assumptions that swiftly shattered after years without maintenance. We have learned that Civil Silence can be useful in times of quiet, but, in this moment, however we define what is happening in and around Israel, it is screamingly loud.

Where is your community’s civility when it comes to Israel? Are you still able to practice Civil Silence? Is your Civil Charity still holding, allowing you to have disagreements within a basic consensus? Or are you beginning to find that Mere Civility must be embraced, learned, and practiced in these new times?