Thoughts on Citizenship and Association

The ritual question of who brings a sacrifice is related to the status that one has before God and to the historic question of how Jews should act in relation to non-Jews? When is it appropriate to distinguish ourselves and when is it incorrect?

Listen carefully to the opening words of וַיִּקְרָ֖א, Leviticus, the most ritually exacting and exclusive book of the Torah:

… דַּבֵּ֞ר אֶל־בְּנֵ֤י יִשְׂרָאֵל֙ וְאָמַרְתָּ֣ אֲלֵהֶ֔ם אָדָ֗ם כִּֽי־יַקְרִ֥יב מִכֶּ֛ם קָרְבָּ֖ן לַֽה

Speak to the people of Israel and say to them: When any person (adam) brings an offering…” Generally speaking, the sacrificial service outlined in our portions deals specifically with the Jewish people, but the term adam reflects the universal dimension of the worship of God. Adam hearkens back to Genesis and embraces all people. Freewill offerings could be presented by anyone. Ultimately, we hope for a time when all humanity will come to worship the Lord. (beit tefillah yi’qa’rei l‘khol ha’amim).

Yet the Torah also teaches that we are “a singular treasure” of God, “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation,” specially loved by the Holy One.

The Rabbis of the Mishnah composed the havdalah prayer that distinguishes between Shabbat and weekdays, as well as between Yisrael and the Nations. Yet they also taught that the Torah tells us that all humanity stems from one person, created in the likeness of God, “to teach that whoever destroys a single soul, Scripture considers it as if an entire world had been destroyed; and whoever preserves a single soul, Scripture considers it as if an entire world had been preserved (Mishnah Sanhedrin 4:9).”

Maimonides’ great work of Jewish law is suffused with the ideal of a universal aspiration to know God. yet the Mishneh Torah legislated all types of differences between Jew and Gentile.

This polarity—a universal ideal aspiration borne by a particular people—has been at the heart of our efforts to maintain our distinctiveness at the same time as we sought acceptance into the societies in which we lived.

I’d like to look at two recent “test cases” to point to the tension and challenges we feel and face when trying to maintain both distinctiveness and integration. One arose in Canada, related to Camp Solelim, and the other came up in Israel, just prior to the election.

The Declaration of Independence of the State of Israel declares that it is both a Jewish state and a democratic one:

The Land of Israel was the birthplace of the Jewish people….

The State of Israel will be open for Jewish immigration and for the Ingathering of the Exiles; it will foster the development of the country for the benefit of all its inhabitants; it will be based on freedom, justice and peace as envisaged by the prophets of Israel; it will ensure complete equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants irrespective of religion, race or sex; [and] it will guarantee freedom of religion, conscience, language, education and culture.…

This sweeping and aspirational vision claims both Jewish character and democratic ideals for Israel.

It is both notable and remarkable that for all the division in Israel, 65 percent of Arab citizens are “proud” or “quite proud” to be Israelis, according to the annual survey by the Israel Democracy Institute. While neither Jewish nor Arab Israelis have significant trust in the government, Arab-Israelis do express trust in the Supreme Court, 60 percent; the police, 57 percent; the president, 56 percent, and the IDF, 51 percent.  The poll also found that 59 percent of Arabs feel a part of the State of Israel and its problems.

I recently shared dinner and conversation with Ruth Gavison of the Hebrew University. She said that human rights should not be perceived as an imposition on Jewish identity, but as a basic aspect of the Jewish tradition. She pointed to Canada as an example of a country committed to democratic values that encourages specific cultures to thrive. She stated clearly that the internal question of how to define Israel as a nation-state of Jews, while maintaining a commitment to democracy and civil rights, affects the legitimacy of Israel in the international arena.

In Israel, a debate is in process whether legislation is needed to articulate the Jewish character of the State, or whether this would contravene the democratic impulse which includes the 21 percent of citizens who are Arab-Palestinian-Israeli. Adding fuel to the question was a law that raised the threshold for representation in the Knesset to 3.25 percent of the vote, or a four-seat minimum. This was motivated by a general concern over the impact that small political parties have by siphoning off votes from the larger parties. It was also an effort to eliminate the small Arab parties from Knesset.

The legislation prompted a decision by the Arab parties to put aside their differences and create the Joint List, which ultimately won 13 seats. Arab parties—which include secular nationalists, communists and Islamists—join to form a shared platform. This energized their community and led to a higher turnout by Palestinian-Arab voters.

But in a last-ditch attempt to rally supporters, the Prime Minister warned that a high turnout of Israeli Arab voters could threaten his party’s hold on power. In a short video posted on Facebook, Binyamin Netanyahu said, “The right-wing government is in danger. Arab voters are heading to the polling stations in droves.V-15 [a left-wing NGO] is bringing them in buses. This is your Tzav-8 [calling you to national service]. Get out to vote, bring your friends and family, vote Likud in order to close the gap between us and Labor."

This was criticized by many as an assault upon democracy and democratic rights and values. Following the election, the Prime Minister, asked if he regretted those comments, explained that his words "should be taken in a larger context. I warned of foreign money coming in to selectively try and bring out supporters of a list that includes Islamists and other factions that oppose the State of Israel.”

In our own community, there was a firestorm following a report that a non-Jewish boy was denied admission to a Jewish camp. Previously, the child had attended a camp with a Jewish majority, Walden, and an intentionally Jewish camp, Shalom. This year, he was denied admission to a Zionist camp for teens, Solelim. The leadership explained that there were camps with open admission policies, but that Solelim was specifically for Jews. Apparently, Camp Shalom had not known of the boy’s identity; when this came up in the application process at Solelim, the camp informed the father that his son did not meet the criteria for admission.  A frustrated father brought the story to the local media.

My Facebook posting asked whether Jewish camps should be exclusively for Jews. Looked at from the perspective of the camp mission to develop Jewish identity and leadership, perhaps non-Jews should not be accepted. But few non-Jews would elect to attend a Zionist camp, so is allowing admission so problematic? In North America, most day schools are exclusively Jewish as a bulwark against intermarriage. But in Britain, some Commonwealth countries and in the Lauder schools of Eastern Europe, non-Jews attend the educational institutions of the Jewish community. In North America, our JCCs are the Jewish venues for inclusion of Non-Jews. What do you think?

Neil wrote: “I think that if we as Jews would like a better co-existence with the non-Jewish world around us, we should be open minded enough to allow a child to attend a Jewish overnight camp as it should give him a tolerant and maybe appreciative perspective of those practicing our religion and our traditions. …we don't live in isolation in North America; to me this is almost a ghetto mentality.”

But Henry responded: “I don't think it's equivalent to Oakdale, which is a recreational and social facility, has the capacity to take new members in and has precedent for accepting non-Jewish members. Here, a not-for-profit camp with limited space has a clear mandate to develop future Jewish leaders. Admitting a camper who's interest is purely recreational and social would deprive another camper who wants to develop community leadership skills from having that opportunity.”

I think there is a difference between the Israeli situation and the Canadian one. It is true that the Prime Minister did not advocate for violence against Arabs, nor for preventing them from voting. He was pointing out that if Arabs come out in large numbers to vote, this would be problematic for those who share Bibi's security concerns about external threats from anti-Zionist political powers. 

Whether the statement was racist, xenophobic or just electioneering, whether it was misconstrued or misrepresented, it was offensive and problematic because it referred to fellow citizens. Citizenship is universal in a way that differs from a private association. That is why we reacted to a Quebec politician who blamed political defeat on those who were not pur laine.

Inclusion of all citizens as voters is the critical defining point here. The nature of citizenship does not permit casting aspersions on a group of member-citizens of the state. It does permit criticism of political ideology and party. Had Mr. Netanyahu said that he was concerned about the NGO bringing voters associated with opinions that Likud opposes (even specifically mentioning Haneen Zoabi and the Islamists), this would be well within the boundaries of democratic rhetoric. But one should not support the democratic inclusion of all citizens and then point to the vote of a specific group of them as pernicious.

In Canada, Jews are organized in voluntary associations, with no claim that everyone must be included in our private, religious or cultural institutions. While national laws mandate non-discrimination, they specifically protect religious institutions, recognizing that the communication of religious identity depends on common beliefs and practices. Others share comparable concerns. A Ukrainian-Catholic woman told me that she wanted her children to be in a camp that reflected those values and did not feel a responsibility to include non-Ukrainian Catholics in the summer program.

There is a time for universalism—anyone who brings an offering, citizenship in a modern state. There is a time for exclusivity—you shall be my particular treasure, a commitment to Jewish identity and continuity. We sometimes confuse these categories and apply one when the other is appropriate. The conflicts of this week remind us of the importance of carefully distinguishing one from the other.