Are Jews A Nation?
Sermon for Shabbat Vayishlach
By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman
Dec. 14, 2019
Observers and commentators claim that in recent months and years, politics have become more divisive than ever. However, I am not sure that this perception holds true when held to the light of history. The only time that politics have not been divisive is under tyrannies and dictatorships. And even then, the fissures remain, waiting to blow up at the first opportunity.
Still, maybe because of the proliferation of social media today, and perhaps because we live during what might possibly be described as the freest of times and places, divisiveness prevails, with each side vying to proclaim its stance and opinion in the loudest possible voice.
The latest contentious issue that has come up world-wide is Israel and anti-Semitism. This has become so prominent that the recent national election in Britain was seen not as a referendum on Brexit—which is how it began—but on Corbyn and the anti-Semitism that is so rampant in the Labour Party, which he represents and currently leads.
The ancient disease we know as anti-Semitism has taken many forms throughout its history. At times cultural, religious, political, or racial, it now seems to revolve around the legitimacy of the Jewish State—Israel.
The violent forms this ancient hatred has taken are known to us all. The Shoah is new and surprising only to those who have never studied history. And yet, for several decades, anti-Semitism, perhaps out of shock at the sheer extent and magnitude of the Holocaust, has lain almost dormant, relegated to the elements of society we have called the lunatic fringe. Recently, however, this societal boundary has been shattered, and we are witnessing a new rise of the vicious hatred, both from the left and right wings of politics. The one thing that unites people as diverse and opposed to one another in every possible way as white nationalist David Duke and the spokesperson of the Democratic Party’s extreme left wing, Rep. Ilhan Omar, is hatred of the Jews. Israel may be the lightning rod, but the violence is clearly directed at all Jews.
On college campuses throughout America today, Jewish students are finding themselves targets of hatred and violence even if they aren’t politically minded, simply because they are Jewish and therefore somehow tainted.
For various reasons, our Jewish youth never learned to fend for themselves. First to protest discrimination directed at other groups, first to take a stand against social injustice and all manner of cultural and environmental dangers, we have been strangely reluctant to stage sit-ins and demonstrations on our own behalf. The Jewish Defense League, formed in 1968 by the late, murdered, Rabbi Meir Kahane in response to a mounting wave of crimes directed primarily against Jews, has been called a terror organization both by the Southern Poverty Law Center and by the FBI. It is still reviled by a majority of Jews all over the world. Jewish response of violence against violence is somehow seen as taboo, proscribed, anathema to Judaism itself.
Take, for example, the holiday of Hanukkah, which we are about to celebrate. Hanukkah started out as a celebration of a major military victory against the Greek Empire, but somehow ended up as minor holiday in the Jewish calendar, celebrating not our strength and survival against all odds, but rather as a fairy-tale about a small can of oil that somehow lasted for eight nights instead of just one. Relegated to the Apocrypha—books that for one reason or another never made it into the Hebrew Bible—are the heroism and self-sacrifice shown by the Judaeans in their desperate war against their oppressors. Forgotten is the story of the beautiful widow, Judith, who used her beauty to lure the Greek general Holofernes into her tent, only to behead him while he was drunk and sleeping. Such stories are considered distasteful, not fit for children and other sensitive souls.
We have a similar reaction to violence in this week’s Torah portion, Vayishlach (Gen. 32:4—36:43). We are fond of telling the story of Jacob’s wrestling with a strange being through the night; we are proud to recall how the angel finally blesses Jacob as dawn breaks, calling him Israel, a survivor of fierce battles with people as well as divine beings. But the story of Dinah, only a few verses later, is one we cringe at. It is Jacob himself who recoils with repugnance at the extreme violence shown by his sons Shimon and Levi against the people of Shechem. It was, after all, indiscriminate, collective punishment for the crime of one person—the prince of the town, who had raped their sister, Dinah. When reproached by their father for their bloody actions, the brothers respond, “Should he have treated our sister like a prostitute?”
Ever since then, Judaism has forbidden collective punishment. Our model is Abraham, not Levi or Shimon; our standard of justice is the one set by God after Noah’s Flood: only the guilty are to be punished. The extreme self-restraint this standard demands of us has resulted in the tragic deaths of many of the defenders of Israel today, the soldiers of the Israel Defense Force, who take extreme caution NOT to harm innocent civilians, even if it means putting their own lives at risk.
But it wasn’t only the violation of Dinah that Shimon and Levi protested. It was the delegitimization of the entire tribe of Jacob.
And this is what we are seeing throughout the world today. The delegitimization of the entire People of Israel.
So what should our response be? The issue of open or concealed carry [of weapons] is a contentious issue among many congregations. And in one vote after another, it is defeated. We live in a lawful society—we must rely on the law. That is the consensus, and I agree with it.
But what if the law is insufficient? The rising tide of anti-Semitic violence is an alarming trend, with no end yet in sight. BDS, the anti-Zionist movement sweeping across colleges all over the United States, has resulted in discrimination and physical assault, and also shows no sign of abating.
That is what the President’s recent executive order on anti-Semitism addresses, and yet the issue is as upsetting and disturbing to some as if he had suggested that we actually take arms to protect ourselves.
The order that President Trump signed on Wednesday defines Jews as a nationality. The purpose of this wording is to enable the use of Title VI of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 to protect Jewish students from boycott, harassment and physical assault. As it reads, Title VI states: “No person in the United States shall, on the ground of race, color or national origin, be excluded from participation in, be denied the benefits of, or be subjected to discrimination under any program receiving Federal financial assistance.”
Religion is not part of this statement. Anti-Semitism, defined as hatred of Judaism as a religion, is thus not addressed by the very law meant to protect American citizens from prejudice and discrimination.
If Jewish students—be they Zionist or a-political, religious or secular—on American colleges and universities that receive federal funding are to be protected by the law just like any other group or minority, it seems that defining them as a nationality is a viable way of doing just that.
But that raises all sorts of objections, not least among us American Jews, and in particular Reform Jews.
Since its earliest days, the Reform Movement has shied away from defining Judaism as a nationality. Israel, Jerusalem, along with any mention of Messianic hopes for a return to Israel, were eliminated from our prayer books. Fearful of the anti-Semitic libel of dual-nationalism and slurs of being disloyal and untrustworthy, Reform Jews have insisted on seeing ourselves—and on being seen by others—as loyal citizens of our home countries first, and as Jews second. Jews went out their way to prove their loyalty, including running for public office and enlisting in national armies. The President’s attempt to define Jews as a nation has awakened deep-seated fears within us, and our initial and instinctive response is one of horror.
A second line of opposition to this executive order comes from those—Jews and non-Jews—who oppose Trump’s presidency a priori. This group sees Trump as willing to do anything and say anything for a vote. They will quote Trump’s statements about White Nationalists as being good people; they will also point to his reference to Jewish Americans in real estate as being “brutal killers” and “not nice people.” There can be no doubt that Trump is a highly divisive factor in American politics, and anyone opposed to him will oppose any political move he makes.
A third group still has criticized the President’s order as putting a chill on any attempt to criticize the State of Israel. Yet, since even before it became a State, Israel has been criticized for any number of reasons, and chances are that this will not change any time soon, either among ourselves or among our many detractors. At the same time, however, there is no doubt in my mind that today’s anti-Zionism is yet another form of anti-Semitism. It is the denial of Israel’s very legitimacy; it is the denial of Judaism’s legitimate claim to the nation and state that gave it birth, and that historically, physically and spiritually has been the home of the Jewish People for more than three and a half thousand years.
Like Jacob’s daughter, Dinah, Israel is once again being violated, treated by those who wish to see it gone as an illegitimate daughter—or worse—of western colonialism.
Yet, though we Jews will not allow ourselves to behave as did Shimon and Levi in olden days, we do have a right to exist in freedom, along with a good measure of well-deserved pride for our accomplishments and many contributions to civilization. The consensus among American Jews is that open or concealed carry is not the way. Practically all synagogues, temples and other Jewish organizations have had to hire outside protection (at our own expense). So what else is left? Shall we, in Jacob’s sons’ words, be treated as a prostitute?
I think not.
We Jews have every right to demand—and to receive—equal protection under the law as any other citizen of the United States. Freedom of speech cannot be, and must never be, used as defense for incitement, for calls to violence, intimidation, or delegitimization of Jews anywhere. And if defining Jews as a nationality will give us access to the protection guaranteed by Article VI of the Civil Rights Law of 1964, then I say, without any equivocation, I am fine with that.
The question of whether Jews are a nation or merely adherents to a religion has vexed the world for centuries, and still defies clear answer. Judaism is commonly defined as a culture, a way of life, a religion—but also as a nationality. Our name comes from the tribe and land of our origin: Judah. Our history, our fundamental texts, our culture, our entire heritage, are anchored in our homeland, today called Israel. The State of Israel may be a relatively new political entity, but history, tradition and archeology prove the Jewish People’s legitimate claim to our land. Today, Jews may live in every land, come in all varieties of skin color, practice our faith and culture in every possible form and manner. But at the end of the day we are still one people. We can’t sing Am Yisrael Chai—the People of Israel lives—and not recognize that we are indeed a people. To deny our nationhood is to deny our very existence, past, present and future. No one has the right to take that away from us. At this point in our history, we have earned every right to define and defend ourselves. Am Yisrael Chai—the People of Israel—miraculously, still lives, and it is us.
May God give us with strength, may God bless us all with peace.
© 2019 by Boaz D. Heilman
