The price of independence

As we get ready to observe our 77^th Yom HaAtzmaut (Independence Day), let’s take a minute to contemplate the meaning of the word “Independence.”

For almost 250 years, since the United States of America declared its own independence on July 4, 1776 , the Western world has placed extreme value on the idea that political sovereignty is a basic right to be enjoyed by all nations. Following the American example, countries around the world have struggled in one way or another to free themselves from the shackles of imperialism, demanding to be (in the words of the US Declaration of Independence) “Free and Independent States” with “full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do.”

As Jews, we understand both the pain of oppression and the desire for freedom. Indeed, long before we observed our modern Yom HaAtzmaut in the month of Iyyar, we were already celebrating our first Independence Day (Passover) in Nissan – marking an event that captured humanity’s imagination with the simple demand: “Let my people go”.

However, our Torah also taught us another simple fact of life, which today’s world seems to have difficulty grasping: With independence comes responsibility.  The book of Shemot (Exodus) tells the story of our departure from Egypt, climaxing with the dramatic downfall of Pharaoh’s army in the Red Sea (14:23-30) and the ecstatic singing of Shirat HaYam, the Song at the Sea (15:1-21).  But then, we are told, after barely a month had passed, the people were already complaining and displaying a lack of faith (16:1-3), drawing Divine rebuke (16:11-12, 28).

Almost immediately after that, they were attacked by an enemy (Amalek), and quickly learned that as an independent nation, they would need to defend themselves (17:8-13). They could count on Divine assistance, but could no longer sit passively and wait for salvation, as they had done in Egypt (see 14:12-13). Following that, they received the Torah, our foundational document whose very essence is the command to take responsibility for our actions and the consequences they bring (for just one of many examples, see Devarim 11:13-21, recited daily as the second paragraph of the Shema).

Slaves have no responsibilities, but freedom and liberty come with a heavy price tag of obligations.

Today’s Western society waves the banner of freedom, liberty, and the right to maximum autonomy for individuals and nations. However, there is often great failure to acknowledge the concomitant responsibility that must come with that independence. The world’s current zeal to protect the “civilian” population of Gaza without imposing even an iota of liability on them for the crimes against humanity perpetrated by their leaders, with what appears to be the nearly unanimous support and assistance of that population, is but one of the most egregious examples of this shallow thinking.

We Jews and Israelis are also not immune to the false lure of authority without obligation. Our prime minister, for example, seems to be very good at taking credit for his many (genuine) accomplishments and calling out others for their failures. But – unfathomably – he still refuses to take responsibility for the greatest military and intelligence failure in our country’s history, which happened on his watch.

With leaders setting that kind of example, it’s not hard to understand why last week, when a District Court judge sentenced two educators each to seven years in prison for the negligent homicide of ten of their teenage students, he also needed to rebuke them for trying to shift the blame onto others instead of expressing genuine remorse.

Another example is provided by an entire segment of our population, the haredim, whose rabbinic and political leadership remains obstinately intransigent over the issue of drafting yeshiva students. Listening to these leaders talk exactly as they did in the past about the necessity of protecting their “Torah world,” completely ignoring the current state of emergency, makes one wonder how those ostensible Torah leaders could have forgotten a simple verse in the Torah: “Do not stand idly by while your brother’s life [is in danger]” (Vayikra 19:16).

How is this possible? The answer likely lies in the history of the relationship between the Haredim and the Israeli government. Since the establishment of the state, one of the Haredi community’s key demands, which governments on both the right and the left have accepted in return for coalition support, has been the ability to maintain chinuch atzmai – independent education. Back in the 1950s, Haredi leaders argued that as Torah-observant Jews, they could not countenance a situation where the “secular” Ministry of Education would have any say in what, how, or by whom their children would be taught. Consequently, absolute educational independence has always been a key demand.

One can agree or disagree with that philosophy, but by now, it is clear that Haredi education is anything but independent. To the contrary, it is heavily reliant on funding from the very government whose involvement it rejects. Here we have another example of autonomy without a parallel level of responsibility. Is it any wonder, then, that the same policy is being applied to the draft?

But it’s not just the prime minister or the Haredim. Many of us in the general Israeli and Jewish society are also guilty of this same deficiency.

Whatever one thinks about any of the divisive issues of the day – how to manage the war and the hostage issue, judicial reform, attitudes towards controversial politicians like Donald Trump or Itamar Ben Gvir, relations between Israel and the diaspora, and many other things – it seems that there is plenty of shouting and delegitimization, but precious little listening and dialog.

If we’ve learned anything over the past 18 months of war, it’s the profound truth of the slogan b’yachad nenatzeach – we will win only if, and because, we are together. We have also learned, over both the distant and the recent past, the tragic results of infighting.

For all sorts of reasons, there are small but vocal groups of people on all sides working to inflame passions and pit us against each other. Far too often, many of us allow ourselves to be drawn into this blame game. This can’t continue; each and every one of us is obligated to work towards overcoming the atmosphere of discord and to build mutual understandings and broad consensus.

Independence comes with obligations – it’s time to start embracing them.