I've been trying to figure out a way to express this for some time. Then last week, I began a new chabura, and found what I think is the right language.
We are learning the book of Yeshayah (Isaiah). One of Yeshayah's persistent messages for the leaders of his day (2500-2700 years ago) was a warning against alliances with the nations around us, like Egypt, Assyria and Babylon. The same message came from the prophet Yirmiyah. Their point was that we should rely on G-d, and that these new friends shared neither our faith in G-d, nor our values. Further, the alliances were also simply bad investments: some nations violated our trust, while others were too weak to help us. In the end, we paid the price by falling prey either to our "allies" or to our foes.
But we've never outgrown our national predilection for partnerships. Whether because we love peace, or because we are insecure in our own identity, or because we fear assault, we tend to accept every olive branch extended our way - regardless of the quality of the match. This led, for example, to an awkward relationship with apartheid South Africa in the 1970's, engaging in trade even as Israel condemned apartheid on the world stage.
Today, the ally many Jews in Israel and abroad seek is the new American President Donald Trump. Applauding his election may have started as a way to spite his predecessor, but Israeli officials have come to speak of him as a friend and ally.
True, the new president has spoken positively of Israel and negatively of her enemies, and has promised significant steps in Israel's apparent favour. Nonetheless, one wonders what Yeshayah or Yirmiyah, would have to say. Even for those who are fans of Trump, and aside from Trump's many sins, presumably the prophets who opposed alliances with Assyria, Babylon and Egypt would not look more kindly on identifying closely with an American president, whose list of deficiencies includes the fact that he will face election in just a few short years. Swept into office by national reaction to the overreaches of the left, President Trump may face a broom of his own in 2020 - and what will be the fate of those who yoked their causes to his?
Normally, I am an optimist, but I fear the timeless messages of Yeshayah may come back to haunt our nation.
Showing posts with label Jewish community: Political action. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jewish community: Political action. Show all posts
Thursday, January 26, 2017
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Jews and Politics
[The following is my article for this week's Toronto Torah; note the ubiquitous Canadian 'u' and the gratuitous injection of French!]
The sage Shemayah was a leading scholar of the first century BCE, and mentor of the great Hillel, but his words in Pirkei Avot have gained little traction with Jews over the centuries. Shemayah advised (Avot 1:10), "Love labour, hate positions of authority and do not make yourself known to the government." Ignoring this judicious counsel, we strive for early retirement, we clamour for authority, and we have a long, colourful history of cultivating relationships with the government du jour.
Shemayah's own flouting of his first two pearls of wisdom is fascinating; he held the sinecure of President of the Sanhedrin, so that his advice amounts to, "Do as I say, not as I do." But to focus on his third recommendation, that we not make ourselves known to government, why did so many giants of our past – Rabbi Yehudah haNasi, Mar Shemuel, Shemuel haNagid, Don Isaac Abarbanel, Sir Moses Montefiore, to name a few – cultivate relationships with the governments of their day?
On one level, our government alliances are simply a product of Pragmatism. We would like certain things from society: the right to practice our religion without being harrassed, the option of sending our children to Jewish schools, the freedom to take Shabbat and Yom Tov off of work without penalty. We would like certain ideals reflected in municipal and federal policy. A pragmatist says that if we want to achieve, we must involve ourselves, express our opinions, and contribute to the public good.
We find this point of view expressed by Rabbi Yissachar Techtel, author of the Em haBanim Smeichah, regarding Israel and the involvement of Torah-observant Jews in birthing the nascent state. Writing in 1942, Rav Techtel berated those who complained about the secular character of the Zionist leadership. He asked, “Were you involved when they started? Did you build their towns with them? Did you move to the land and help build it up?” We must be willing to be involved.
A second reason for investment is Gratitude. We receive food through society's system of highways, profit from its stable commercial environment, and live safely thanks to its police and courts. We enjoy parks in which to play, and roads on which to drive. Our taxes fund these services, but society provides the oversight, design and maintainenance of this grand system. Gratitude dictates that we pay for this service, and playing a role in government is part of that payment.
Gratitude is the model taken by Rav Moshe Feinstein, in a letter encouraging voter registration. He wrote: "A fundamental principle of Judaism is hakaras hatov – recognizing benefits afforded us and giving expression to our appreciation. Therefore, it is incumbent upon each Jewish citizen to participate in the democratic system which affords us the freedoms we enjoy. The most fundamental responsibility incumbent upon each individual is to register to vote."
Beyond pragmatism and gratitude, though, we have a tradition of flouting Shemayah's advice because we are taught to invest in Community. We are a Jewish community, but we are also part of a larger community, and we are responsible to that larger community.
As the gemara (Shabbat 33b) explains, Yaakov pioneered this community approach. When Yaakov moved his family to Shechem, he contributed to the infrastructure of the land; Rav said that Yaakov established a currency, Shemuel said that Yaakov founded a marketplace, and R’ Yochanan said that he constructed bathhouses for the population. Rashi explains that Yaakov did this when he purchased land in the area; upon becoming landed, he made an investment in the public good.
The same message may be seen in our ancestor Avraham's plea on behalf of the hypothetical righteous population of Sodom. Avraham contended, “Perhaps there are righteous people b'toch ha'ir, in the midst of the city,” emphasizing that the individuals who could forestall catastrophe would be people who functioned as part of the citizenry, not as an isolated enclave. The work Panim laTorah cites the Vilna Gaon as highlighting this language, and both Ibn Ezra and Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch did likewise in their commentaries to the Torah. The worth of the righteous stems from their involvement with the greater populace.
Given these three elements – Pragmatism, Gratitude and Community – why did Shemayah take a stand against making ourselves known to the government? Perhaps Shemayah's words were formed in response to the Sanhedrin he personally led, a group of sages who cowered before the murderous King Herod (Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews 14:9; see a variant edition in Sanhedrin 19a). Shemayah was justly concerned that a nation which consorted closely with corrupt kings could be intimidated or bought. Nonetheless, the weight of Jewish tradition is with the Abarbanels and Montefiores; for reasons both selfish and selfless, we seek the good of the land we inhabit – investing, building, and governing as well.
The sage Shemayah was a leading scholar of the first century BCE, and mentor of the great Hillel, but his words in Pirkei Avot have gained little traction with Jews over the centuries. Shemayah advised (Avot 1:10), "Love labour, hate positions of authority and do not make yourself known to the government." Ignoring this judicious counsel, we strive for early retirement, we clamour for authority, and we have a long, colourful history of cultivating relationships with the government du jour.
Shemayah's own flouting of his first two pearls of wisdom is fascinating; he held the sinecure of President of the Sanhedrin, so that his advice amounts to, "Do as I say, not as I do." But to focus on his third recommendation, that we not make ourselves known to government, why did so many giants of our past – Rabbi Yehudah haNasi, Mar Shemuel, Shemuel haNagid, Don Isaac Abarbanel, Sir Moses Montefiore, to name a few – cultivate relationships with the governments of their day?
On one level, our government alliances are simply a product of Pragmatism. We would like certain things from society: the right to practice our religion without being harrassed, the option of sending our children to Jewish schools, the freedom to take Shabbat and Yom Tov off of work without penalty. We would like certain ideals reflected in municipal and federal policy. A pragmatist says that if we want to achieve, we must involve ourselves, express our opinions, and contribute to the public good.
We find this point of view expressed by Rabbi Yissachar Techtel, author of the Em haBanim Smeichah, regarding Israel and the involvement of Torah-observant Jews in birthing the nascent state. Writing in 1942, Rav Techtel berated those who complained about the secular character of the Zionist leadership. He asked, “Were you involved when they started? Did you build their towns with them? Did you move to the land and help build it up?” We must be willing to be involved.
A second reason for investment is Gratitude. We receive food through society's system of highways, profit from its stable commercial environment, and live safely thanks to its police and courts. We enjoy parks in which to play, and roads on which to drive. Our taxes fund these services, but society provides the oversight, design and maintainenance of this grand system. Gratitude dictates that we pay for this service, and playing a role in government is part of that payment.
Gratitude is the model taken by Rav Moshe Feinstein, in a letter encouraging voter registration. He wrote: "A fundamental principle of Judaism is hakaras hatov – recognizing benefits afforded us and giving expression to our appreciation. Therefore, it is incumbent upon each Jewish citizen to participate in the democratic system which affords us the freedoms we enjoy. The most fundamental responsibility incumbent upon each individual is to register to vote."
Beyond pragmatism and gratitude, though, we have a tradition of flouting Shemayah's advice because we are taught to invest in Community. We are a Jewish community, but we are also part of a larger community, and we are responsible to that larger community.
As the gemara (Shabbat 33b) explains, Yaakov pioneered this community approach. When Yaakov moved his family to Shechem, he contributed to the infrastructure of the land; Rav said that Yaakov established a currency, Shemuel said that Yaakov founded a marketplace, and R’ Yochanan said that he constructed bathhouses for the population. Rashi explains that Yaakov did this when he purchased land in the area; upon becoming landed, he made an investment in the public good.
The same message may be seen in our ancestor Avraham's plea on behalf of the hypothetical righteous population of Sodom. Avraham contended, “Perhaps there are righteous people b'toch ha'ir, in the midst of the city,” emphasizing that the individuals who could forestall catastrophe would be people who functioned as part of the citizenry, not as an isolated enclave. The work Panim laTorah cites the Vilna Gaon as highlighting this language, and both Ibn Ezra and Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch did likewise in their commentaries to the Torah. The worth of the righteous stems from their involvement with the greater populace.
Given these three elements – Pragmatism, Gratitude and Community – why did Shemayah take a stand against making ourselves known to the government? Perhaps Shemayah's words were formed in response to the Sanhedrin he personally led, a group of sages who cowered before the murderous King Herod (Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews 14:9; see a variant edition in Sanhedrin 19a). Shemayah was justly concerned that a nation which consorted closely with corrupt kings could be intimidated or bought. Nonetheless, the weight of Jewish tradition is with the Abarbanels and Montefiores; for reasons both selfish and selfless, we seek the good of the land we inhabit – investing, building, and governing as well.
Monday, April 7, 2008
My Jewish Political Skepticism: A long tradition continues
[This week's Haveil Havalim is up here; and I have an unexpected link from the Jewish Cooking Carnival to boot!]
Jews are heir to a long national history of political skepticism. Whether slaves in Egypt told by Moshe that God would take them out of bondage, or generations of Jews promised by prophets that if only they would follow the Torah they would be safe from their enemies, or European Jewish communities living under the government of innumerable His Royal Highnesses, the Jewish nation has always doubted those who promised anything at all. King David wrote in Tehillim, “Put not your trust in princes,” and our ancestors took that as less pragmatic warning and more sacrosanct commandment.
This trait (which I admit has frustated rabbinic leadership as long as there has been rabbinic leadership) has served our minority population well through centuries and millenia of wandering from land to land. Jewish communities have taken government promises with more than one grain of salt, have hedged bets in political battles, and have kept their bags perpetually packed, literally as well as figuratively, and have saved many lives in the process.
But the downside to this lack of trust is that when we find an ally, someone deserving of our support, we hold back for fear of choosing wrong.
As a result of this Prufrockian fear of misplacing trust, I have been unable to connect with any of this year’s panoply of candidates. Magnetic orators as well as straight-talking cowboys, experienced politicos and relative newcomers, all of them talk a good game to one extent or another, and all have high points and lows, and the bottom line remains this genetic mistrust.
Case in point: This past Monday evening I attended a program at local Muhlenberg College, with Congressman Steven Rothman (D-NJ). Congressman Rothman, sent by the Obama campaign, was to speak about Senator Barack Obama’s positions on Israel and the Middle East.
The congressman said everything I could have wanted to hear; on more than one occasion his words sounded like they had come out of my own pro-Israel pen. The congressman spoke of important America-Israel partnerships, the history of the America-Israel relationship, the need for considering compensation for Jewish refugees forced out of Arab lands, and the affirmation of Israel’s existence as a Jewish state. The congressman educated the audience in the history of the British Mandate and the Balfour Declaration as well as the relatively recent vintage of Palestine. He expressed sympathy for Palestinian Arabs but demanded an end to violence, acceptance of the Jewish Israel and acceptance of previous peace agreements as a pre-requisite for dialogue with any Palestinian Arab leadership. In all of these areas, the congressman affirmed at the end that he spoke not only for himself, but also for Senator Obama.
Addressing the question I posted here last week, the congressman said that Senator Obama would not force Israelis and Palestinians to the negotiating table, and would not dictate the terms of a peace agreement. (I’m not so sure that his comments on this point were coincidental; my post on the topic was read for quite some time by someone at house.gov, mere minutes after I put it on-line last week…)
[Update: At 9:54 AM today, the day after I posted this message, I had another visit from that same house.gov site, now for this article. Presumably to check the coverage. I trust you found my report on the event accurate?]
I should add that Eric Lynn, billed as Senator Obama's Middle East Policy Adviser, also spoke strongly in favor of support for Israel as a Jewish state, in a pre-program session.
Really, Senator Obama's views sounded just like mine. I couldn't have been happier. And yet, at the end, I remained unable to really trust - just like I can’t trust Senator Clinton when she says pretty much the same things. Ditto for Senator McCain.
Perhaps I would have been more comfortable if I had heard something with which I disagreed; hearing my own party line triggers my skepticism antennae like little else. I wonder what Senator Obama’s surrogates say when they address the Muslim community. (As soon as I arrived home I looked on-line for such an event, but have not been able to find one listed.)
Perhaps it's because I was hearing a surrogate, instead of the Senator himself. I've met President G. W. Bush, and I can tell you that regardless of all stances and snafus, he has real magnetism in person. Successful politicians just have it. Congressman Rothman probably has it when speaking for himself. But when speaking as a surrogate for someone else, well, it's just harder to have the same pull.
What does it all mean in the end, what's the bottom line? I’ll admit that I am less concerned than I was a few hours ago regarding Senator Obama’s leanings. But, ultimately, the search for an end to my skepticism continues…
Jews are heir to a long national history of political skepticism. Whether slaves in Egypt told by Moshe that God would take them out of bondage, or generations of Jews promised by prophets that if only they would follow the Torah they would be safe from their enemies, or European Jewish communities living under the government of innumerable His Royal Highnesses, the Jewish nation has always doubted those who promised anything at all. King David wrote in Tehillim, “Put not your trust in princes,” and our ancestors took that as less pragmatic warning and more sacrosanct commandment.
This trait (which I admit has frustated rabbinic leadership as long as there has been rabbinic leadership) has served our minority population well through centuries and millenia of wandering from land to land. Jewish communities have taken government promises with more than one grain of salt, have hedged bets in political battles, and have kept their bags perpetually packed, literally as well as figuratively, and have saved many lives in the process.
But the downside to this lack of trust is that when we find an ally, someone deserving of our support, we hold back for fear of choosing wrong.
As a result of this Prufrockian fear of misplacing trust, I have been unable to connect with any of this year’s panoply of candidates. Magnetic orators as well as straight-talking cowboys, experienced politicos and relative newcomers, all of them talk a good game to one extent or another, and all have high points and lows, and the bottom line remains this genetic mistrust.
Case in point: This past Monday evening I attended a program at local Muhlenberg College, with Congressman Steven Rothman (D-NJ). Congressman Rothman, sent by the Obama campaign, was to speak about Senator Barack Obama’s positions on Israel and the Middle East.
The congressman said everything I could have wanted to hear; on more than one occasion his words sounded like they had come out of my own pro-Israel pen. The congressman spoke of important America-Israel partnerships, the history of the America-Israel relationship, the need for considering compensation for Jewish refugees forced out of Arab lands, and the affirmation of Israel’s existence as a Jewish state. The congressman educated the audience in the history of the British Mandate and the Balfour Declaration as well as the relatively recent vintage of Palestine. He expressed sympathy for Palestinian Arabs but demanded an end to violence, acceptance of the Jewish Israel and acceptance of previous peace agreements as a pre-requisite for dialogue with any Palestinian Arab leadership. In all of these areas, the congressman affirmed at the end that he spoke not only for himself, but also for Senator Obama.
Addressing the question I posted here last week, the congressman said that Senator Obama would not force Israelis and Palestinians to the negotiating table, and would not dictate the terms of a peace agreement. (I’m not so sure that his comments on this point were coincidental; my post on the topic was read for quite some time by someone at house.gov, mere minutes after I put it on-line last week…)
[Update: At 9:54 AM today, the day after I posted this message, I had another visit from that same house.gov site, now for this article. Presumably to check the coverage. I trust you found my report on the event accurate?]
I should add that Eric Lynn, billed as Senator Obama's Middle East Policy Adviser, also spoke strongly in favor of support for Israel as a Jewish state, in a pre-program session.
Really, Senator Obama's views sounded just like mine. I couldn't have been happier. And yet, at the end, I remained unable to really trust - just like I can’t trust Senator Clinton when she says pretty much the same things. Ditto for Senator McCain.
Perhaps I would have been more comfortable if I had heard something with which I disagreed; hearing my own party line triggers my skepticism antennae like little else. I wonder what Senator Obama’s surrogates say when they address the Muslim community. (As soon as I arrived home I looked on-line for such an event, but have not been able to find one listed.)
Perhaps it's because I was hearing a surrogate, instead of the Senator himself. I've met President G. W. Bush, and I can tell you that regardless of all stances and snafus, he has real magnetism in person. Successful politicians just have it. Congressman Rothman probably has it when speaking for himself. But when speaking as a surrogate for someone else, well, it's just harder to have the same pull.
What does it all mean in the end, what's the bottom line? I’ll admit that I am less concerned than I was a few hours ago regarding Senator Obama’s leanings. But, ultimately, the search for an end to my skepticism continues…
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