1.
Who would presume to analyze anyone else without knowing their biography, aspirations and cultural background? Many speak of the Jewish people without knowing its main calling cards: the Bible, the Talmud (and additional seminal texts) and the Halacha (Jewish law) that, as journalist Adam Baruch once said, is "the subconscious of Judaism."
At a symposium about the nations-state law, held this week as part of the 2018 Eilat Journalists Conference, former Zionist Union MK Zuhair Bahalul warned that we were on the brink of catastrophe and the loss of democracy.
Despite his excellent Hebrew, I found it hard to be impressed by his position as the preacher at the gate, which caters to specific audiences, whose conscience is susceptible to the position of the Arab victim.
In contrast to Islamic culture, democracy has been ingrained into the Jewish people's ethos since its inception. Abraham, the father of the nation fiercely argued with God about the fate of Sodom, and the Prophet Jeremiah summoned God to a trial. This is not possible in Islam, in which God is absolute and one's religious devoutness is demonstrated by a total submission to his will.
This also cemented the political status of the ruler of the kingdom: The kings of Israel were not absolute rulers, like their counterparts in Arab and European countries, but rather headed the public as leaders. Samuel may have crowned Saul as king on God's command, but the people were unfazed by that and Saul still had to be elected by acclamation. Even then, not everyone accepted his rule until he proved worthy of his position. On the other hand, the Prophet Nathan excoriated King David in the parable of the poor man's lamb.
In exile, it was the members of the Jewish community that vested authority in our people's leaders and they, in turn, undertook the burden of leadership of their own free will. The fact that all members of the community participated, according to their levels of understanding, in the study of our treasured texts democratized culture and knowledge, which in turn limited the influence wielded by political and religious figures of authority. Every child who studied Talmud was instilled from a young age with controversy and debate as a basic Jewish condition.
2.
The scattering of the Jewish people in thousands of communities around the world created a variety of opinions, languages, cultures, customs and ideas. At the same time, these communities shared a common ethos, texts, halachic customs, joys and sorrows, as well as the dream of the return to Zion. All this led to the fact that, despite being scattered the world over, we maintained the consciousness of one people.
Consider the wonder of the ingathering of the exiles over the last century. Almost anyone who immigrated to Israel felt that they had returned home. Controversy, as fierce as it may be, does not pull us apart – as long as there is no explicit call for violence. We are fairly used to the fact that what appears from the outside as a contradiction is really unity that contains controversy.
Contrary to the violent expansion of Christianity and Islam worldwide, after the destruction of the Second Temple (perhaps after the fall of the Hasmonean Kingdom in the first century B.C.E.), Jews never sought to convert other peoples. The Jewish ethos has always been a "kingdom of priests and a holy nation" (Exodus 19:6) and "a light unto the nations" (Isaiah 49:6), meaning we were called upon to serve as an example for others, teaching the ideas of Judaism, but nothing more.
3.
This is why the apparent contradiction between a "Jewish state" and a "democratic state" is usually debated by those who perceive Judaism as a "religion," similar to Islam or Christianity in the Middle Ages. But the opposite is true as only a Jewish Israel can guarantee the state's democratic nature. The minorities among us also have an interest in bolstering the state's Jewish character as it is an insurance policy guaranteeing their civil rights. The alternative democratic state would be a multinational state, predominantly Jewish and Arab, whose character is devoid of the Jewish identity (national anthem, flag, state symbols and national self-determination).
When you look at the way that the Arab peoples view independence, and at the character of the regimes that they established in the Middle East, you see why the call to define Israel only as "democratic" without the Jewish aspect is a dangerous trap. Without the Jewish aspect, Israel could easily turn into another non-democratic Arab country.
After nearly 2,000 years of living without political independence, it is hard for us to resume national life. To maintain the state we are required to leave Torah studies and engage in economics, construction, agriculture, transportation, foreign policy and more; and especially, to use force via the police and the military. What are these to us after years when only the Bible and other Jewish texts served as our wandering homeland? Is this not a betrayal of our spiritual destiny?
4.
As I mentioned earlier, to get to know us, one needs to look at our origins, especially the history of how we became a nation as detailed in the Book of Genesis. The fact that Jews continue to read and reread these stories, year after year, for thousands of years, has incorporated them into our DNA.
Even while in their mother Rebecca's womb, the twins Jacob and Esau locked horns, each representing a national option in which the Abrahamic idea could go: "Two nations are in your womb and two peoples from within you will be separated" (Genesis 25:23).
Jacob is described as an innocent man, content to stay at home among the tents, while Esau becomes a skillful hunter, a man of the open country. The interpretation of this through the ages spoke not only of the difference between the shepherd and the hunter, but also about the scholar versus the man of action, spirit versus matter and the halls of Torah versus the military's tents. These dichotomies accompany us to this day.
Rebecca understood that in order for Jacob to continue Abraham's line, he must learn to be Esau, too. First, he disguised himself as Esau when entering his father's tend, scared to death he would be discovered, to receive the blessing of the firstborn. When he left, he was no longer able to completely remove Esau's garments, as something profound of his brother's identity clung to him. Rebecca continued with her mission and sent him into exile, to discover and learn the practical principles of life at her brother Laban's house. The acts of the fathers are a sign for the sons.
Twenty years later, Jacob returned home, laden with a large family and many possessions. It was not easy – homecomings always involve a struggle – and what are 20 or 2,000 years in a nation's history?
Esau, meanwhile, has been planning his revenge on his brother. After moving his family across the river, Jacob was left alone and then someone attacks him and seeks to kill him. The Bible does not reveal the identity of the assailant, but one can read the story of the struggle, as a possible ending – one of two – to the story of Jacob and Esau (the other ending is the reconciliation between them, as it is told in the following chapter).
Esau attacks Jacob, seeking to avenge the theft of the birthright and the blessing; seeking to finish what he started in their mother's womb. The pre-disguise and exile Jacob would have fled, but Esau is facing an upgraded Jacob, skilled in his brother's crafts. He does not run anymore – he fights back.
Jacob wins the fateful struggle and not only that – he forces his enemy to bless him, meaning to concede defeat. Only at this stage in the Book of Genesis, do we first hear the name that will accompany us forever: "Your name will no longer be Jacob. You have wrestled with God and with men, and you have won. That's why your name will be Israel" (Genesis 32:28).
Our coming together as a nation lies with the natural connection between Jacob and Esau; between the tent and the field; between the spirit and matter; between the Book and the life of the state.
Exile is unnatural to us, because it underscores only part of our collective national identity. To fulfill ourselves as a people, not only as individuals, we must return home and deal with the life of the kingdom through the ideas, morality and commandments that we perfected while in exile. We note that the name that symbolizes our national identity also embodies the endless struggle and (democratic) debate with both God and man. "For you have wrestled … and you have won." Absolutely.
