Friday evening with a secular group, the conversation was exclusively about the assassination in Dubai. My companions were convinced it was Israel's work, and almost all of them were sure it was a failure. Their standards are demanding. Anything less than perfect is embarrassing. No matter that the bad guy was dead and the good guys got away. Their crime was identified as such rather than death from natural causes that was preferred, and their pictures spread across international media.
My companions ignored efforts to turn the conversation to Rabbi Elon. I tried twice, then realized that I was learning something from their lack of concern.
My hypothesis gathered weight Saturday morning in a religious setting, where the conversation was exclusively about the Rabbi, and the profound shock and dismay felt in the Orthodox community. In this conversations, Dubai was a passing event of no lasting importance.
Benjamin Disraeli wrote a good novel and social commentary, Sybil, or The Two Nations (1845)
"Two nations; between whom there is no intercourse and no sympathy; who are as ignorant of each other's habits, thoughts, and feelings, as if they were dwellers in different zones, or inhabitants of different planets; who are formed by a different breeding, are fed by a different food, are ordered by different manners, and are not governed by the same laws: the rich and the poor. ."
Israel's two nations are not those of mid-19th England. And one can exaggerate the difference between them. In fact, there are three that are prominent: religious and secular Jews, and Arabs. Moreover, there are significant variations within each of these.
Religious Jews differ principally along the Orthodox-Ultra-Orthodox axis, with Conservative, Reform, and Reconstructionist Jews occasionally noisy but small minorities. Secular Jews vary by ethnic origin, income, education, and political perspectives. What to outsiders may look like a homogeneous Arab group are Druze, Christian, Beduin and the sizable communities of non-Beduin Muslims, who vary in their character by locality or extended family.
I make no claim that my weekend encounters comprised a scientific sample. Yet they are people I have known over the course of three or four decades to fall across the social cleavage between secular and religious Jews that is the most important for the country's politics.On this occasion, the cleavage was apparent in what was important, or of little interest, to each community
As I have written in several of these notes, one should not exaggerate the extent of this cleavage. It marks, but does not threaten the social fabric of the country. Tensions and conflicts are routinized, and only occasionally heat up to a low level of violence. The people I spoke with over the weekend are moderate in their political views, but more or less representative of secular Israelis and Religious Zionists.
Orthodox and ultra-Orthodox Jews together may be only 20 percent of the Jewish population (10 percent each), but they are prominent to the right of center on the political spectrum. Neither the Orthodox nor the ultra-Orthodox have ever dominated a government, but they have been close to several prime ministers, and have put their people at the heads of important ministries of finance, justice, and interior, as well as in the chair of the Knesset Finance Committee. They have been significant in defining what it possible with respect to the sensitive issue of settlements.
Some see the religious as important enough to cast a veto on the removal of major settlements or proposals for peace. However, they were not successful in stopping Ariel Sharon's move to withdraw settlements of religious Jews from Gaza in 2005. That failure still pains Religious Zionists, and helps to account for efforts to persuade religious boys to refuse recruitment to the IDF, and to persuade religious soldiers to refuse orders that would remove additional settlements. Those remain minority efforts within the settler community. Activists come up against the patriotism that prevails among Religious Zionists, as well as the condemnation of refusing military orders or recruitment by leading rabbis.
The anxiety felt by Orthodox Israelis in response to the condemnation of a leading rabbi for violating sexual norms by a distinguished group of his colleagues is different from the anxiety produced by the failure of Religious Zionists to stop the withdrawal from Gaza. This crisis is associated with anguish about a fundamental element of rabbinical Judaism: the authority of a rabbi who had widely been viewed as a leading religious and political authority, as well as a counselor of individuals seeking help for their personal problems. Not only has he been revealed as a homosexual, but as an individual who took advantage of young men who sought his help for their own feelings of sexuality.
A secular social scientist is tempted to note that homosexuality would appear among the rabbinate in about the same incidence as it appears among other populations. However, this is not relevant to this shock about the prestige that attaches to rabbis, especially those who have acquired status as leading commentators, teachers, and counselors. Such men share in the tradition that begins with Moses, passes through Ezra, and counts as its members rabbis who are prominent in the arguments of the Talmud and subsequent commentators on religious law. For one of the contemporaries who has acquired some of that prestige to have violated both religious law and the trust of his colleagues and students is a shock to a foundation of the Orthodox community.
Israel will survive whatever embarrassment of its security services will come out of the operation in Dubai. Religious Jews will also accommodate a recognition that some of their leaders resemble Catholic priests and television evangelists that have sullied the expectations of their communities.
The exposure of Rabbi Elon strikes more sensitive nerves than whatever errors were made in Dubai. Also it is more shocking to members of the religious community than the possibility that a former president and a former prime minister may go to prison for their violations of sexual or financial norms. Israelis are familiar with the clumsiness of security operations, and have low expectations of politicians. Disappointment rather than shock or even surprise marks discussions about the follies of Moshe Katsav or Ehud Olmert. Religious Jews should also be familiar with the traits that religious leaders share with other humans, and this experience--however painful--may move them toward that realization.
Ira Sharkansky (Emeritus)
Department of Political Science
Hebrew University of Jerusalem
Tel: +972-2-532-2725
Fax +972-2-582-9144
irashark@gmail.com