The Universalism of Jewish Particularism
There is a Jewish
tradition dating back to the Book of Jeremiah[1] to pray on behalf of the local
government. Today, most contemporary Siddurim contain a text known as Hanoten Teshuah, which is a prayer on
behalf of the government.
One of the
earliest records of this prayer[2], in
translation, is found in a 1655 pamphlet written by Mannaseh Ban Israel entitled To His Highnesse the Lord Protector of the Common-wealth of England,
Scotland, and Ireland the humble addresses of Menasseh ben Israel, a divine,
and doctor of physick, in behalfe of the Jewish nation. Jews had been
expelled from England in 1290, and Menasseh Ben Israel wrote this pamphlet,
addressed to Oliver Cromwell, to advocate for their return. Concerned that the Expulsion from Spain 160
years earlier might imply that Jews had been disloyal to the Spanish crown,
Menasseh ben Israel offers proof of Jewish patriotism by quoting the Hanoten Teshuah prayer in English
translation. He added that every Jewish community prays for the local
government, even before praying for their own community.
Manasseh is
engaging in what is called apologetics, in this case a defense of the Jews
against accusations hurled at them. Apologetics is one of the recurring themes
in Jewish History; and in the modern era, a fair amount of Jewish apologetics
have been about loyalty and patriotism.
One powerful
example of apologetics is a pamphlet printed by the Reichsbund jüdischer Frontsoldaten, The Reich
Federation of Jewish Front-Line Soldiers, in 1920, detailing the Jewish
sacrifices for Germany.
“To the German mothers! 12,000 Jewish
soldiers fell on the field of honor for the fatherland. Christian and Jewish
heroes fought side by side and rest side by side in foreign land. 12,000 Jews
were killed in action! Furious party hatred does not stop at the graves of the
dead. German women, do not tolerate that a Jewish mother is scorned in her
grief.”[3]
Jews in Germany
felt the pressure to prove themselves as patriots, and volunteered for front
line duty in World War I in a far higher percentage than other Germans[4].
Despite their sacrifices for Germany, anti-Semites accused them of disloyalty,
and Jews had to write articles and books to prove their patriotism once again.
This is not unique to Germany; for hundreds of years, Jews in the Western world
have had to prove their patriotism in the public arena, and then respond to
bigotry and ignorance with apologetics and advocacy.
However, the
centuries of apologetics have inverted the Jewish self image. They have left
behind a legacy in which Jews spend an inordinate time thinking about what
other people want from us, rather than thinking about what we want for
ourselves.
This inverted
self-image can be seen in the over-emphasis of tikkun olam in the Jewish
community. On college campuses and in other enclaves where universalism is
valued more than patriotism, Jews now have to defend themselves against charges
that they are too narrow and tribal. A tikkun olam theology offers the perfect
apologetic argument against this accusation. Instead of being tribal, Jews are
emissaries of kindness, out to serve and save the world. For a Jewish community
that has marinated in 300 years of apologetics, this is just another pivot in
making ourselves understood by the people around us. The problem is that the
demands of a tikkun olam ideology can clash with Jewish identity itself.
An excellent
example of this is a public debate between Rabbis Danny Gordis and Sharon Brous
during Operation Pillar of Defense in 2012. On the surface, it was a highly
nuanced disagreement; both agreed on the importance of supporting Israel, and
both agreed that the humanity of the Palestinians must be respected. Yet they
had a very emotional disagreement, because those nuances speak volumes.
Rabbi Brous, The
spiritual leader Ikar in Los Angeles, wrote a congregational letter that said: I believe that the Israeli people, who have
for years endured rocket attacks targeting innocents and designed to create
terror, instability and havoc, have the right and the obligation to defend
themselves. I also believe that the Palestinian people, both in Gaza and the
West Bank, have suffered terribly and deserve to live full and dignified
lives…. supporting Israel’s right to protect and defend itself does not
diminish the reality that the Palestinian people are also children of God,
whose suffering is real and undeniable.
Rabbi Danny
Gordis of the Shalom center in Jerusalem blogged a furious response to Rabbi
Brous’ letter, in which he wrote:
Universalism,
Cynthia Ozick once noted, has become the particularism of the Jews.
Increasingly, our most fundamental belief about ourselves is that we dare not
care about ourselves any more than we can about others. Noble Jews have moved
beyond difference…..What I wanted to hear was that Rabbi Brous cares about my
boys (for whom she actually babysat when we were all much younger) more than
she cares about the children of terrorists. Especially this week, I wanted her
to tell her community to love my family and my neighbors more than they love
the people who elected Hamas and who celebrate each time a suicide bomber kills
Jews. Is that really too much to ask?
It is no secret
that on this question my sympathies are with Gordis. Indeed, if your children
got into a car crash with a drunk driver, would you run between the two
hospital rooms to see how everyone in both cars were doing? There is a
hierarchy of responsibilities, and there are times when you must focus on your
family, and only on your family.
But this does not
mean that we should lightly dismiss Brous’ concerns. The message of
universalism is deeply embedded in the Torah. Even at the Passover Seder, we
pour drops of wine during the list of the plagues, to show sadness over the
deaths of our enemies.
This universalism
begins in the first chapter of the Torah, when the world was created without
Jews. God created Adam and Eve, and from there, the world is meant to evolve
into a universal society. (The prophetic visions of the Messianic era are also
universalistic.) And even after
rejecting humanity during the flood, the world is once again restarted as a
single society, with the family of Noah.
But then comes
God's third attempt to recreate humanity; and this time he leaves the rest of
humanity in place, but chooses Abraham alone.
Abraham is tasked
by God with creating a new nation, and this new nation will demand intense
patriotism and solidarity. This choice is puzzling. Doesn’t God love all of
humanity? And if Abraham's descendants create a singular and segregated
national identity, how are they going to change the rest of the world?
For contemporary
readers, God’s choice to fix the world with a chosen nation sounds
counterintuitive. Tribalism is seen not just as spiritually inferior, but actually
as a cause of conflict. The assumption is that every group that organizes into
a strongly connected “us”, will always stand in opposition to others who are
“them”[5]. Tribal
solidarity is now viewed with suspicion, and too many Jews contort themselves
to fit a universal narrative.
I would argue
that Jewish solidarity is actually one of the better ways to improve the world.
To turn Cynthia Ozick's phrase on its head, the Jewish approach is "the universalism of
particularism".
The Bible tells
us that Abraham's name represents the fact that he is an “Av Hamon Goyim”, the
“father of a multitude of nations”. But who are the multitude of nations? The
13th century Spanish commentary of the Ramban[6] says it is a reference to the
Jewish people themselves. The Jewish people is not one unitary tribe; even in
biblical times there were the 12 tribes of Israel. And those tribes didn't
always get along with each other.
This reality
remains throughout Jewish History. There are always multiple tribes, Jews from
different countries with different ideologies. In our own neighborhood there
are Jews from Syria, Poland, Hungary, Morocco, Ethiopia and Germany; and there
are Conservative, Orthodox, Reform and unaffiliated Jews, each with a different
ideology and culture.
What is
remarkable is how Jews can still feel a sense of solidarity with each other, no
matter how different they are. Throughout
history the multiple Jewish tribes have banded together, despite the dramatic
differences between themselves[7].
This international
coalition of Jewish tribes is a reminder that you don’t have to be alike to be
a family. The mission of Abraham’s children is to create one nation out of many
tribes, and build a model of what the world could be. This is superior to a
universalism which seeks to embrace exotic foreigners, but finds it difficult
to connect with unenlightened kinfolk in the same country. Truly universal love
does not neglect those who are closest to you, no matter how much you disagree
with them.
This is why
particularism is the Jewish way to universalism. First of all, because you are allowed to love
your family more. But more importantly, learning how to embrace the various
tribes of Israel is a perfect way to overcome tribalism.
The State of Israel
represents not just the ingathering of Jews, but the ingathering of tribes from
all over the world. While there is plenty of friction in Israel, what is
remarkable is how these tribes have preserved this powerful sense of
solidarity.
One story that I
heard from Rabbi Sharon Shalom, (an Ethiopian Rabbi and author) illustrate this
quite well. In the late 1970’s, Sharon fled with thousands of other members of
the Beta Israel community to the Sudan. There, he was rescued as part of the
Mossad’s “Operation Brothers”. The Mossad operated a beach resort called “Arus”
as a front, and every few months would smuggle a group of Beta Israel children
in middle of the night to the beach. There, they were taken by Israeli
commandos to a waiting boat that transported them to the Sinai. Sharon
remembers being hugged by a big Israeli commando, who carried him to the boat;
and he remembers how the commando had tears in his eyes. Sharon was a young
boy, and couldn't understand why the soldier would be crying. Now he understands.
But the story
continues. A few years ago, he got a call from a member of the Mossad, who had
been the commander of operation that took Sharon to Israel. The Mossad agent
said that his daughter was getting married, and he wanted Sharon to be the rabbi
at the wedding.
At the chuppah,
everyone had a good cry; the Rabbi, the Mossad commander, and the bride and
groom. These were the tears of a big family reunion, a reunion that brought
together Jews from around the world.
These tears are
transformative. They reflect a Jewish commitment to connect with other Jews, no
matter how different and distant; and they are a model of how the entire world
can transcend their own differences.
[1]
Jeremiah 29:7
[2]
See “Hanoten Teshua' The Origin of the Traditional Jewish Prayer for the
Government”, by Barry Schwartz, Hebrew Union College Annual, Vol. 57 (1986),
pp. 113-120
[4]
Amos Elon, The Pity of It All: A Portrait of Jews In Germany 1743 – 1933, page
338
[5]
See Moral Tribes: Emotion, Reason, and the Gap Between Us and Them, by
Joshua D. Greene, Penguin Publishing Group, 2013
[6]
Genesis 17:15
[7]
Yes, there has been more than enough division as well. But that actually proves
the point; only a people deeply concerned about unity would constantly worry
about divisions and infighting.
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