Thursday, August 19, 2010

Parshat Shoftim

In Parshat Va'etchanan, which we read a few weeks ago, there is a rather strange short interlude in the narrative just before the repetition of the ten commandments, which describes how Moses established "cities of refuge" – places to where the accidental killer can flee and gain sanctuary.

I have often wondered whether the placement of this text is entirely deliberate: the only one of the ten commandments of which Moses himself was actually guilty was lo tirtzach - thou shalt not murder - and after he killed the nameless Egyptian and buried him in the sand, he himself fled to Midian to seek refuge. Some may regard Moses’s violent act as heroic - indeed, it is often portrayed as such - but was Moses haunted by it for his entire life? Did he in some way equate, on the grounds of his belief in the pursuit of justice, his own deliberate killing with an accidental one? And did he, at this critical moment just before reiterating the ten commandments, seek compassion and understanding for his own transgression of one of the laws he was about to decree?

It may be that this week's parsha, Shoftim, adds some fuel to this idea, as it refers once again to the cities of refuge, and includes the famous dictum tzedek tzedek tirdof (justice, justice, shall you pursue). Moreover, parshat shoftim is always read on the first Shabbat of the month of Elul – traditionally the period of reflection and repentance leading up to yamim noraim (the High Holy Days). Indeed, there is a beautiful Chassidic idea that draws a parallel between the cities of refuge and Elul – the former being a sanctuary in space for contemplation and atonement, the latter being a similar sanctuary in time. So at this very particular juncture in the Jewish year, the notions of a sanctuary in time, accidental wrongdoing, and the pursuit of justice coalesce in an intriguing and challenging way, and invite us to steady ourselves on the path to teshuva (repentance).

According to the Rambam, the pathway to a physical city of refuge is meant to be as clear as possible. In the Mishneh Torah, he writes that "the court is obligated to straighten the roads to the cities of refuge, to repair them and broaden them. They must remove all impediments and obstacles ... bridges should be built [over all natural barriers] so as not to delay one who is fleeing [to a city of refuge]. 'Refuge' should be written at every crossroads so that the murderers should recognize the way and turn there." The Chassidic parallel above perhaps leads to a similar conclusion about the temporal refuge that is Elul. Justice in this instance would be for us to clear and repair every possible route to allow those who have done wrong – whether accidentally or deliberately – to be given some respite and a little sanctuary in order to reflect on, and make amends for their actions. We would often like others to make it as easy as possible for us to apologise for our own misdemeanours; but are we making it as easy as possible for them to do likewise for theirs?

Elul is a signpost at a crossroads in our lives. Judaism gives us this brief window in the year to clear the pathways towards our own atonement, and that of others. Many of us live, as perhaps Moses did, under the various weights of misdemeanours committed long ago that were never resolved, and with a longstanding wish for compassion and understanding for that wrongdoing. Now is the time to clear away all the existing impediments and build all the necessary bridges towards achieving those resolutions. Doing so may just bring a little more justice to the world.

(Also published by Limmud).

Monday, August 9, 2010

The Writing on the Wall

On the face of it, the news coming in from the UK is pretty good. A survey published last week by JPR, the London-based Institute for Jewish Policy Research, showed that 90% of Jews in Britain believe that Israel is “the ancestral homeland of the Jewish people,” 82% consider Israel to play an important, and even central role in their Jewish identities, and 72% categorize themselves as Zionists, in contrast to only 21% who do not. Furthermore, an estimated 95% of Jews in Britain have visited Israel at least once, 77% agree that Jews have “a special responsibility to support Israel” and 87% agree that Jews are responsible for ensuring “the survival of Israel.”

The report, entitled Committed, concerned and conciliatory: The attitudes of Jews in Britain towards Israel, is the result of the most extensive and definitive research ever conducted on this topic, and in its exploration of some of the political views of the Jewish population of Britain, it contains findings that will warm the hearts of those both on the left and the right of the political spectrum. The dovishness of the community comes across very clearly: 67% favour giving up territory for peace; 74% are opposed to the expansion of existing settlements in the West Bank, and perhaps most strikingly, 52% think that Israel “should negotiate with Hamas in its efforts to achieve peace.” However, at the same time, the hawkishness of the community is also apparent: 72% consider the separation fence/security barrier “vital for Israel’s security” and the same percentage viewed Operation Cast Lead as “a legitimate act of self-defence.” Furthermore, fully 87% of respondents believe that “Iran represents a threat to Israel’s existence.”

We struggled with how to interpret this combination of dovishness and hawkishness when we were initially analyzing the data, but on reflection, came to the conclusion that, in many respects, the apparent paradox captures perfectly the nature of Israel’s ongoing dilemma. The peace versus security equation needs to be balanced on a daily basis; most overtures towards peace involve taking risks on security, and most clamp-downs on security involve damaging prospects for peace. What Jews in Britain are saying – in much the same way as Israelis are saying – is that we want both.

The findings were greeted positively by the British Jewish community’s best known newspaper, the Jewish Chronicle, which ran with the headline “UK Jewish bond with Israel as strong as ever.” Whilst it is distinctly possible to read the data in that way, my personal view is that there are signs of considerable disquiet in the findings, which indicate that all is not quite as rosy as some would like to believe.

Consider the following. In our investigation of the state of Israeli society, 67% agree that there is “too much corruption in Israel’s political system.” Approximately 6 out of 10 believe that both Jewish and non-Jewish minorities in Israel “suffer from discrimination.” Three-quarters think that “Orthodox Judaism has too much influence in Israel’s society” and that includes, surprisingly perhaps, almost half of those who self-define as “Religious.” Each of these findings suggests that a majority of Jews in Britain is looking at these aspects of Israeli society and struggling in some way to reconcile the realities they see with the values they believe ought to underpin a Jewish state. Perhaps it is the allegations against Ehud Olmert or Moshe Katzav, perhaps it is the growing alienation of Arab Israelis, perhaps it is the stranglehold Orthodox authorities have over the conversion process, but whatever the reason, it is clear that these types of difficult issues are leading some Jews in Britain to view Israel through quite critical eyes.

There’s more. A clear majority considers Israel to be “an occupying power in the West Bank.” 40% do not think that Israeli control of the West Bank is vital for Israel’s security. 43% do not believe that Israel has “little or no choice in most of the military action it takes.” And one-third thinks that Israel holds either as much responsibility – or even more responsibility – for the failures of the peace process than its neighbours.

To date, none of this appears to be eating away at the foundations of the relationship Jews in Britain have with Israel. On the fundamentals, the support is still overwhelming. But below the surface, there is evidence to suggest that a significant number of people are starting to ask some probing questions. One can only guess at what the long-term impact will be, but we should not rule out the possibility that the currently strong foundations might begin to crumble in the years to come. Right now, Jews in Britain remain deeply tied to Israel; the future, however, looks far less certain.


(This article was also published in The Jerusalem Post)