To Define and to Defend

June 21, 2008 · Filed Under Life in Israel, Personal Stories ·

Written by: Aliza

It’s been almost a month since it happened; and yet it is taking time to process its events. The images, interaction, and memories remain clear; and yet demand clarity.

I was on the bus home from school. It was a long day and it was late in the evening and we were approaching Mea Shearim, the Haredi neighborhood of Jerusalem. And then we stopped moving. I peered out the window, as I began to smell smoke, and noticed the garbage bins in the distance: they were set on fire and placed along the main road of the neighborhood, and thus there was only one very narrow lane for traffic.

The streets were mobbed with men and young children dressed in black and white and earlocks and velvet hats and bekeshas. The kids were disturbing traffic; they were taking smaller garbage bins and throwing them in front of the passing cars; they were shouting; they were causing me to feel as though I was a stranger in a foreign city with foreign people.

I was stunned. Traffic was stopped. People began murmuring on the bus. No one knew what was going on.

And so I got off the bus. I approached a haredi woman standing on the sidewalk. She was married and relatively young—perhaps late twenties.

What’s going on here?

I’m not sure of the exact details. Apparently, a young boy died in a car accident and the government won’t let them bury him. They want to perform an autopsy. A tragedy. A tragedy. Unbelievable. Can you imagine if you had died and they wouldn’t let you be buried?

She spoke passionately. She was staring at the fire and the words floated out of her mouth, sounding a bit premeditated.

I remained standing with her. I was intrigued and emotional and frustrated and I shared those sentiments with her. I insisted that while I can empathize with her pain, such a means of action will provide no solution.

She was convinced otherwise: this is the only way that the government changes things; we go out and protest and this is how things change. I am very proud of them; this is the right thing to be done.

Passer-byers stood and watched. People noticed us. People watched us. People, I assume, wondered.

I though, could not accept her arguments. I asserted that such action—while on a local level may provide solutions—foster greater splintering within the Jewish community; this is surely no conduit to empathy and understanding. The innocent onlooker—the outsider—experiences distance and frustration and disunity.

And she had a quick response: I’m not looking for unity. There’s not chance of that and that’s not what I daven for. I daven that one day the chiloynim will come back. And that’s all I can do until everyone comes back.

And no, she’s not going out there. She’s not trying to bring them back. Because—like she said—she doesn’t want any contact with them unless the chiloynim come to them. She doesn’t want to have anything to do with them. Her kids see them driving on Shabbat and scream goy goy. And they think that the woman without a head covering is a goya or an arab. How can she teach them otherwise?

Her words were bewildering. I was shocked—in the truest sense of the word: the abrupt and simple manner with which she disregarded all attempts of unity was painful.

It is difficult to fathom any united effort if, as she claimed, there is no incentive to reach unity; the absence of a common goal precludes any common action– of which I strongly believe.

Eventually, perhaps frustrated, the woman mentioned that her kids were waiting for her at home and that she was worried that someone would walk by and record our conversation and she walked off.

I too, though, walked off frustrated: I was frustrated at her harsh and insensitive words; I was frustrated at my inability to empathize with her; I was frustrated with the paradoxical reality I attempt to decipher; I was frustrated that I felt like a foreigner; and I was frustrated with the abruptness of the conversation’s ending.

And yet, amongst the inundation of despair I embraced this intimate moment. For me it was a unique moment which provided the haredi woman a forum to define herself and defend herself against the other. I appreciated the encounter as an attempt at dialogue—a means of expression, of understanding. Appreciation, I think, is integral to the development of a solution.

While I do recognize that this woman’s words represent her alone and that she was, perhaps, an extreme representation of the community, I remain slightly despaired and yet forever hopeful.

Martin Buber has a powerful book entitled On Intersubjectivity and Cultural Creativity. He writes elegantly and poignantly. And, perhaps, herein lies a viable approach to the solution of this conflict.

Here’s what I read:

“A time of genuine religious conversations is beginning—not those so-called fictitious conversations here none regarded and addressed his partner in reality, but genuine dialogues, speech from certainty to certainty, but also from one open-hearted person to another open-hearted person. Only then will genuine common life appear (47).

Genuine conversation, and therefore every actual fulfillment of relations between men, means acceptance of otherness. When two men inform one another of their basically different views about an object, each aiming to convince the other of the rightness of his own way of looking at the matter, everything depends so far as human life is concerned, on whether each thinks of the other as the one he is, whether each, that is, with all his desire to influence the other, nevertheless unreservedly accepts and confirms him in his being (65).”

I like to think of this approach as my guidance. I like to hope that this model will transfer from the ideal to the realistic.

The next step is the general implementation of such a motive; the next stage is genuine education. And, as always, the question remains: is it possible?

You liked this post? Here is a list of related posts:

- An Advocacy: the Rise from Aliyah to Activism by Aliza
- Uplift (v): to improve socially, culturally, morally, or the like: to uplift the spirits of those downtrodden. by admin
- Demonstrations: What Will Work? by Zemer
- After Hours at the Arnona Office: When Bureaucracy Shuts Down by Aliza
- Im Tirtzu - Bringing Zionism Back To Israel by admin
- The Palestinian People: A Divided People by Aliza
- Jewish Reconnection Project - Intro by Dan Illouz

Dan Says:
June 21st, 2008 at 8:51 pm

Thanks for describing beautifully the need for communication between the different layers of the Jewish community - something I tried outlining in my series on "Authentic Kiruv" but which you did so much more eloquently.

Thanks

Garnel Ironheart Says:
June 22nd, 2008 at 7:59 am

Too many groups in Israel have, as one of their underlying beliefs, the notion that they are so obviously right they don't need to justify their position to anyone and can act how they want without caring about the feelings of others.
Consider: the boy died in a car accident. What real need is there for an autopsy? None, it would most probably be done to satisfy medical curiousity. Was it a brain haemorrhage or severed thoracic aorta that killed him? So the Chareidim have every right to be outraged by such a procedure.
But their response? Pure chilul Hashem because it says to the outside world that underneath the frock coats they're a bunch of spoiled children who have temper tantrums when they don't get what they want. The Chilonim don't care about their sensitivities. Or at least that's what is perceived.

As a side note, I don't blame the Chareidim for rioting. The Arabs have kidnapped Jewish boys and shot rockets at civilians for a couple of years now and the government is doing everything it can to reward them. Why shouldn't the Chareidim think that it'll work for them too?

aliza Says:
June 23rd, 2008 at 11:40 am

(part I)
i do not deny that the haredim have a "right to be outraged by such a procedure"; such is the crucial lesson that i learned from that encounter. i can appreciate the plight of the other and attempt to understand their position. i do not, though, think this is a simple task. i truly wonder whether it is possible to empathize with a community while its views are counter to mine. i hope, though, it is.

regardless though of the details of the situation and the actions of the government, their actions are inexcusable. the chilul hashem is not directed at the outside world; it is us, the Jews, it affects most greatly! i truly believe this. it only aggravates the schism amongst us, and this is where the most work must be done.

they disregard the legitimacy of the government and thus they work outside of the framework of social order; and yet expect to affect change within the social order. this paradoxical attempt at reform is troubling.

and whats more: your attempt to justify the actions of the haredim thorough comparison to the violence of Arabs is the more so troubling. i would hope–and I assume–that the haredim do not look to them as a paradigm of success.

Zemer Says:
June 23rd, 2008 at 12:26 pm

Aliza, good to hear from you again! Good food for thought… again, what is the bottom line, though? What can we do that's positive, constructive, active?

Dan Says:
June 24th, 2008 at 2:58 pm

Well, Zemer, I think thinking of these things is already a big step. Then, incorporating the approach outlined in Aliza's post in your own life is how you make your contribution to the Jewish World on this issue. Those who are more "activists" can even teach and share this idea with others. But i'm not sure what you mean when you ask "what to do?". It's as if someone says "wearing tfilling is good" and then u ask him - "ok, now what can we do about it?"… the answer is obviously WEAR TFILLIN…

Yosef Says:
June 25th, 2008 at 8:46 am

Some very intriguing and passionate arguments but I would just like to point out that there is one opinion (while I in no way follow this Shitah) that says that we must not involve ourselves with the returning of Jews who have left the Religion and we must "Let the sinners sin". I'm not sure of the exact quote but it's a Gemarah in the beginning of Berachot.

Also, unfortunately, this Chareidi woman was probably correct that the only way for them to get their way from the government is to throw a "tantrum", and while this is childish and stupid, it works for them.

Dan Says:
June 25th, 2008 at 9:10 am

I think the real question is whether this "tantrum", in the long run, is more productive to the health of the state or more destructive… you win a battle but then create a state of adversity which creates so many more losses…

aliza Says:
June 25th, 2008 at 1:49 pm

hola zemer, im agreeing with dan. i think the complexities of this situation demand that we simply appreciate the value of dialogue and compassion. What we can do i educate others–in the simplest sense of the term: to share these values and hopes with friends and family and of course ourselves; we need to be critical yet accepting. and most obvious and practical, i guess, would be to actually engage in conversation. and while i admit that this very local solution is seemingly just that: very local–i do think that there is great importance and value to this endevour.

aliza Says:
June 25th, 2008 at 1:57 pm

yosef– i am not at all aware of that opinion but i thinks its relevance to this issue is unrelated. the issue is not whether or not we can find halachik validation for their way or our; the issue is so much greater than that and with such heavy implications that do simplify it in terms of halachikly justified or not is missing the point. and also, i agree that the haredim have a right to protest as does any other sector of the Jewish community here. however, their fragile and often critiqued position in this society demands that they choose a method of protest that would more sensitively consider the implications of their actions.

Aviva Says:
June 26th, 2008 at 4:31 pm

you guys are frikkin' DREAMING, ok? I used to be all idealistic like you, the fact of the matter is that if they don't want to be open to religion, they won't learn no matter what you tell them, they will always have another answer, it's a deep seated hate inside every chiloni… the hardest person to change is yourself.. ever hear the parable of a bottle, that pours itself out and is then empty, vs the spring, that gets its water from a higher source and then just comes spilling out to everyone near it (something like that, anyway).. you are wasting your time and energy when it comes to people who don't want to learn. fix yourself.

Aviva Says:
June 26th, 2008 at 4:33 pm

and another thing, I am glad they did that fire, so quit being so indignant about it,.. the antireligious government understands nothing else.. what sucks is that it was in their own neighborhood.(i was stuck on a bus for half n hr that day in front of a burning dumpster) - sheepish liberal love everyone bs is what got us thrown out of gush katif.

Dan Says:
June 26th, 2008 at 4:40 pm

Wow, that must be the most intolerant comment I've ever seen! Good job on your Ahavat Israel! "you are wasting your time and energy when it comes to people who don't want to learn. fix yourself. " That's exactly the problem with people like you - its called being self-centered and only caring about your share in the world to come. I have news for you - the goal of judaism is not gor individuals to become better, but for klal israel to become a mamlechet kohanim vegoy kadosh. Try to perfect yourself all you want, if that is not part of klal israel becoming mamlechet kohanim vegoy kadosh (and, based on your approach, actually results in the opposite), it's not really God's will.

Dan Says:
June 26th, 2008 at 4:44 pm

No, what got us thrown out of Gush Katif is our inability to properly explain our case to Klal Israel, our separating ourselves from other communities and living a seperate religious life instead of living as part of klal israel and making klal israel move forward, our bad political choices through which we always stayed in the sidelines except of taking an active part in the countrie's leadership, and of course, because our leadership made this very very very bad decision which not every secular israeli agreed with (so stop dividing klal israel!)v etc… Rav Kook was once criticized by someone who said he's a huuuge talmid chacham but he just has too much ahavat israel. Rav Kook answered - "May my only fault be that I have too much ahavat israel". Sinat Chinam destroyed the beit hamikdash and the hate you are expressing only furthers it. ONLY ahavat chinam will rebuild it. Not your perfecting your own little self for your little olam haba- ONLY ahavat chinam.

Zemer Says:
June 26th, 2008 at 7:17 pm

Dan, Aliza: I dashed off my earlier comment in a hurry, and didn't have Aliza's full article and its points in my mind. I agree, the episode was very positive and also very telling, and dialogue is very necessary. Beginning to break down the fences of silence or minimal or distorted communication is a very big step along the path towards unity, harmony, and love. However, my earlier point still stands: how do we positively and actively implement this? Creating forums for this kind of dialogue, in a way that will attract and engage thinking, passionate people from the different 'streams'/'boxes'? How do we spread/expand the conversation? It begs pondering… and ideas are very welcome… I say this last paragraph with a background of us articulating some wonderful ideas which are mainly unanchored in concrete, practical implementation (as of yet), especially in a larger scale…

Zemer Says:
June 26th, 2008 at 7:25 pm

Aviva, I agree with your direction of focus on fixing oneself. It's where any growth has to start. However, I think that perhaps you became so disillusioned because you have taken the largely mainstream approach to kiruv: bringing in the people who are far out there, and teaching them the error of their ways. In truth, nobody — 'chiloni' or 'charedi' — wants to be told that everything they've been living and believing for their whole life is wrong, is a lie. Dan mentioned, in an earlier post of his, the concept of kiruv levavot: instead of taking the rather arrogant approach where I am the 'frum' person, you are not, and now I'll teach you what it's like to be a Torah Jew, we need to realize that every Jew has a spark inside his/her soul, which is unique to that soul, and that only needs some ignition from the right angle, from the right direction. If you can truly 'lechanech lana'ar al pi darko', as Kohelet says, then you will not be showing people how they are wrong; rather, you'll be showing them how the deep needs and drives that are in their soul can be wholesomely expressed through Torah: each person needs his/her own way, and his/her personal expression should not be destroyed by Torah, but rather amplified, refined, and enhanced. Aviva, I believe that trying to show people the 'error of their ways' will only frustrate the 'mekarev', and will encounter a lot of resistance, which is natural and understandable.

aliza Says:
June 27th, 2008 at 4:48 am

aviva– truthfully im shocked. its not just that your ideas expressed here are unbased but the way you express them are awfully harsh. if youre going to attempt to make a convincing argument, I would suggest you begin by using language that expresses tolerance and patience and seriousness rather than the language of this post and the other one. And then you would receive better attention. You may have good ideas. And you may have an argument; but to embellish your argument with words that dont really express true consideration is only obscuring your argument. and then im only going to address a few issues. firstly, its sort of ironic that in a way you come across just like your portrayal of the haredim. religious fundamentalists–on any side of the coin–do not contribute nor do they exhibit a viable option for religious belief or practice.

aliza Says:
June 27th, 2008 at 4:49 am

and next: your narrow and local understanding of judaism is astounding. judaism is a religion of a nation–not splintered groups of people who assert that their way is the only way; and others who dont care that others assert that there way is the only way. and as much as that is a description of our status now, there is what to strive for.

and no, im not saying that we'll achieve all our goals. and i do not assume that we will actualize these goals quickly. and that's imporant for you to realize: that nothing guarantees quick results. i am not suggesting a quick revolution. I am very much aware of the complexities of the situation and thus am suggesting very local attempts. One by one, we can change our attitudes; and thats all. im not suggesting a reform of judaism but a reform of our attitudes. i think that the ability to appreciate the other's view would afford significant improvement.

Dan Says:
June 27th, 2008 at 9:08 am

Again Aliza - Well said. Thanks for perfectly expressing what we were all thinking.

Yedidya Says:
June 30th, 2008 at 1:12 am

For many hilonim you may be right. possibly they dont want to learn. Or dont know they really do want to learn. But I think that you would be surprised if you talked to them. Im in the army, an although im in a 'beinish' unit, i do speak to many hilonim, and they are interested, just they dont know anything, having never had an opportunity to meet religious people face to face and to learn about Judaism.

Zemer Says:
June 30th, 2008 at 1:45 am

There's a story with Rav Shlomo Carlebach where he went to visit an army base. He started chatting with the chaplain about how he was teaching his men, but the man said that they weren't interested. So Rav Shlomo asked him, have you tried teaching them something deep? Something about the soul? What about the teachings of Rav Kook? Then, Rav Shlomo walked up to one of the roughest looking soldiers, and said, brother, do you want to learn something about the soul? The soldier was interested, and he and Rav Shlomo sat down together to talk…