When The “Malkhuta” is Ours

Next week, Israelis head to the polls. At stake are critical questions for Israelis and for Jews around the world who are watching closely. Alongside questions of political leadership and the government’s response to October 7, there is a fundamental debate about democracy, diversity, religious pluralism, and the very nature of the State of Israel.

These concerns are not abstract. They are lived realities that emerge in reports of Israelis being arrested while defending Palestinian olive harvesters, in attacks on liberal synagogues in Israel, and in growing fears that democratic institutions are under strain. Perhaps most powerfully, they emerge in the calls of hostage families, bereaved families, and those who have defended the country to participate in the electoral process as a response to the tragedy of October 7 and its aftermath.

What does it mean to live in a country in which it feels like democratic principles and institutions have been abandoned? What does it mean when into that void, some Jews behave as though Jewish law supersedes civil law, and what are the implications when it is the Jewish democratic state that is central to that conversation? 

Jewish tradition offers a framework for considering what is at stake: dina d’malkhuta dina, the law of the kingdom is law. In the Babylonian Talmud, Nedarim 28a, Shmuel articulates this principle, establishing that Jews are obligated to respect the laws of the societies in which they live. Historically, the doctrine provided a framework for Jewish life under political authorities who were not Jewish. It recognized that organized and secure Jewish communal life depends upon adherence to the civic order, and that no community can simply exempt itself from the obligations of the broader society.

The principle raises a different question in the modern State of Israel. What happens when the Jewish people are no longer living under the rulership of others, but are themselves now the governors and rulers of their own state? 

One medieval commentator, the Ran, suggests that the original formulation of the principle applies to a sovereign ruler who possesses authority over the land, particularly in matters such as taxation. Yet when taxation and governance are no longer instruments of a foreign ruler but expressions of Jewish self-determination, does the principle itself change? Ran offers one challenge suggesting it might; but years of rabbinic voices suggest that the answer might be found elsewhere.

One answer may be found in democracy. A democratic society depends upon a shared commitment to the institutions through which collective decisions are made. No individual or group can place itself above the laws that govern everyone else. Self-government requires not only political power, but also a willingness to submit to the systems that make political life possible. That includes religious communities and authorities operating within a civic framework of law.

Can this apply in a Jewish state? This question was addressed directly following the establishment of the State of Israel.  A powerful argument was put forth by Rabbi Ovadia Yosef, and despite arguments to the contrary, he concluded that Israeli law remains binding above Jewish law, and compelling to religious Jews. His ruling affirmed that the legitimacy of civil authority does not depend on complete agreement with those who hold political leadership. In doing so, he recognized the authority of democratic institutions and legislation alongside religious leadership. And still, in Israel as in many countries, democracy remains an ongoing experiment, one way modern societies organize collective responsibility. It is not inevitable, and it requires constant care.

In Israel, and in the eyes of Jews around the world, recent years have produced moments that can be described as hefkerut, a sense that responsibility has been abandoned and that institutions are failing to uphold the obligations entrusted to them. The term derives from a halakhic framework in which property is rendered ownerless and available to others. Turned toward civic life, it captures the perception that legislators and government leaders have abandoned core responsibilities and failed to adequately protect society and its citizens.

Elections offer one opportunity to respond to that concern. They do not, by themselves, repair democratic institutions, but they do provide citizens with a means of shaping whether those institutions are strengthened, diminished, or neglected. The responsibility of citizenship extends beyond voting. It includes defending the independence of courts, supporting accountable governance, insisting upon equal application of the law, and recognizing that no group can claim exemption from the responsibilities of shared public life.

In its halakhic sense, hefker refers to property left ownerless and available for others to claim. In its civic sense, hefkerut describes something more troubling: a vacuum created when responsibility is abandoned and in the case of a democracy, where public institutions are left undefended. There is an important distinction between making something available for the common good and leaving the common good unprotected, but one word encapsulates the mirror image of the good and the bad that comes from leaving a void.

If dina d’malkhuta dina asks us to recognize the authority of civil law, self-determination demands a further question: do we accept responsibility for the institutions that uphold it? The challenge of Jewish self-determination is not simply whether we recognize the law. It is whether we are willing to sustain the democratic structures that make law meaningful, enforceable, and just, and collectively ensure all Jews and all citizens adhere to them equally, and benefit from them equitably. And with that comes a commitment to a Jewish state that remains an open sanctuary for all its citizens, ensuring that each is treated equally within the public square, defends the public square, and can count on the State to protect them, all of them.  Dina D’malkhuta  if applied to this year’s elections in Israel is a call to return to upholding responsibilities, and turning the hefkerut into a call for a just society, a caring society, a democratic society for all its citizens.