JEWS have always had interactions with governing bodies. Consider the shtadlan — a term that refers to a Jewish leader who lobbied on behalf of the community to the local government.
The shtadlan as a mainstay of Jewish communities rose to prominence in Europe in the seventeenth century, but the name and concept go back via Christian and Muslim Spain all the way to tenth century Baghdad, and just about anywhere else the Jews governed themselves but still had to interact with whatever civic authorities were in charge.
Historically, this lobbying tended to be exclusively regarding affairs that mattered to the Jewish community specifically — which generally meant trying to avoid blood libels or inquisitions — but was not a mechanism for trying to influence policies more broadly. By the twentieth century, Jews had attained a great level of confidence and security in diaspora society, and Jewish groups were advocating for Jewish values in larger society. This began with liberal communities and social welfare/tikun olam advocacy; the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism was founded in 1959. Eventually, Orthodox groups developed the confidence to follow suit (the Orthodox Union founded their Institute for Public Affairs in the 1980s) — especially if they feel that the existing voices on a topic are misrepresenting what they feel Judaism actually says.
Canadians will be heading to the polls to vote in a federal election sometime this year. Should we be presenting and advocating for our values in public? Are there benefits? Limitations? Should we be taking our Judaism into account when considering issues such as abortion or immigration?
Samson Raphael Hirsch, Nineteen Letters (1836)
To be pushed back and limited upon the path of life is … not an essential condition of the Galuth, Israel’s exile state among the nations, but, on the contrary, it is our duty to join ourselves as closely as possible to the state which receives us into its midst, to promote its welfare and not to consider our well-being as in any way separate from that of the state to which we belong. 1
1 HERE WE SEE HIRSCH, a leading rabbi of nineteenth century Germany, making a strong defence of modernism — in stark contrast to much of the isolationism that the burgeoning Hassidic movement was bringing to Judaism at the time.
Rabbi Moshe Feinstein in an open letter to the Jewish community (1984)
A fundamental principle of Judaism is hakaras hatov — recognizing benefits afforded us and giving expression to our appreciation. Therefore, it is incumbent upon each Jewish citizen to participate in the democratic system which guards the freedoms we enjoy. The most fundamental responsibility of each individual is to register and to vote.
Therefore, I urge all members of the Jewish community to fulfill their obligations by registering as soon as possible, and by voting. By this, we can express our appreciation and contribute to the continued security of our community. 2
2 PERHAPS THE MOST FAMOUS Jewish legal authority of the twentieth century, it’s notable that Feinstein isn’t advocating for bringing your Jewish values into the polling booth here. You could either interpret this as being because it was obvious to him that you should do so, or as evidence that Jewish values aren’t relevant when you decide how to vote. Here as always, the text becomes a mirror for your own ideas.
Midrash Tanchuma, Mishpatim 2:1 (Seventh–Tenth Century CE)
The king by justice establisheth the land, but the man who sets himself apart overthroweth it (Proverbs 29:4). The Torah’s king rules through justice and thereby causes the earth to endure, but the man who sets himself apart overthrows it. This implies that if a man acts as though he were separate by secluding himself in the corner of his home and declaring: “What concern are the problems of the community to me? What does their judgment mean to me? Why should I listen to them? I will do well (without them),” he helps to destroy the world. 3
3 A LATER MIDRASHIC COLLECTION, this was clearly written in a context where Jews were governing themselves. It is nevertheless instructive here for its bias towards action, and participating in social issues. One might imagine that the author would be inclined to extend this exhortation to argue for justice in the general social sphere as well as the Jewish one.
Rabbi Dr. Shmuly Yanklowitz
President and Dean, Valley Beit Midrash
ONE THING that’s clear to me from the last year is that my love for the Jewish people has reshaped my social justice activism in that as much as I may care about racial justice or immigrant rights or climate change or reproductive rights, I won’t work with groups that are anti-Israel or who are antisemitic. I kind of think of it as: halakhah doesn’t tell me what to do on this, but it does give some red lines, some broader parameters. Within those red lines, what’s going to guide me then is a sense of what’s reasonable, and a general sense of empathy. I find it to be problematic for one’s Judaism to be in any way perfectly overlapping with partisan politics. I think that, from Jewish sources, we have a thrust in a certain direction [on many issues]. How that gets concretized is where it gets subjective.
Talmud Bavli, Gittin 55B (Third–Sixth Century CE)
The Talmud introduces a story about a man, Bar Kamtza, who out of desire for revenge against another man, went to the Roman authorities and told them that the Jews were rebelling. He advised the emperor to send a calf as an offering and see if the Jews would sacrifice it. En route to the rabbis with the animal, Bar Kamtza deliberately blemished the calf, thereby invalidating it for sacrifice at the temple.
The Sages thought to sacrifice the animal as an offering regardless of the blemish, due to the imperative to maintain peace with the government. Rabbi Zekharya ben Avkolas said to them: If the priests do that, people will say that blemished animals may be sacrificed as offerings on the altar. The Sages said: If we do not sacrifice it, then we must prevent Bar Kamtza from reporting this to the emperor. The Sages thought to kill him so that he would not go and speak against them. Rabbi Zekharya said to them: If you kill him, people will say that one who makes a blemish on sacrificial animals is to be killed. As a result, they did nothing, Bar Kamtza’s slander was accepted by the authorities, and consequently the war between the Jews and the Romans began.
Rabbi Yohanan says: The excessive humility of Rabbi Zekharya ben Avkolas destroyed our Temple, burned our Sanctuary, and exiled us from our land. 4
4 IN OTHER WORDS, as a result of Rabbi Zekharya’s decision to not go to the authorities and explain the Jewish laws vis-à-vis temple sacrifices, the Romans’ offering was refused and they took offence. This resulted in the war that destroyed the temple and sent the Jews into exile.
The rabbis were keenly aware, even when living in a semi-autonomous state, that the community needed to not only maintain their laws and values, but to advocate for these laws to the authorities. The message is clear: sticking to your own community and not speaking truth to power can cause a community’s downfall.
Michael Broyde, Jewish Action (Fall 1993)
Even though homosexual conduct violates Jewish law and morality, the question of the Jewish position on homosexual rights laws should be based on a balance between Judaism’s mandate to make the world a better place and the realpolitik needs to avoid endangering Jews’ well-being in America and to foster our own growth and success here. Applying this balance to the case of homosexual rights in America leads this author to conclude that it is in the best interests of Judaism to support the continued granting of basic civil rights to all, while making clear our moral opposition to the underlying conduct of those who exercise their freedom in violation of basic ethical norms of Judaism. We are providing no moral legitimization for an activity if we seek to prohibit firing a person from his or her job because of it. Orthodox Judaism should seek to prohibit people from being fired from their jobs or evicted from their homes for reasons unrelated to their suitability for the job or the place of residence. This rule is in our own best interest, whereas a rule which allows economic discrimination based on society’s perception of a person’s private morality or religiosity is not. 5
5 BROYDE, A SCHOLAR OF LAW AND RELIGION (it must be noted that he was at the centre of a scandal when he gained access to private message boards using a pseudonym in order to promote his own work), wrote this in response to an article about the Jewish communal attitude to the gay-rights movement. His argument echoes the shtadlanim of the past whose primary responsibility was the protection of Jewish communal interests.
Reconstructing Judaism (from their website)
Tikkun olam (social activism, or literally “world repair”) is an attempt to repair breaches of justice in our world. Tikkun olam is a central wellspring of spirituality and meaning for many contemporary Jews.
The Reconstructionist movement has helped define the vanguard of social justice in the Jewish community, advancing causes from equality for women and LGBTQIA folks, to policy-shifting advocacy work in multi-racial, interfaith coalitions. The centrality of working for social justice was part of Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan’s earliest vision for Reconstructionism. Tikkun olam continues to be a central pillar for our work to build a more just, equitable, diverse, and inclusive world and in our approach to Jewish life:
“The Jewish protagonists of social idealism should realize that the Jewish religion came into being as a result of the first attempt to conceive of God as the defender of the weak against the strong and that it can therefore continue to serve as the inspiration in the present struggle.” 6
6 HERE, THE VERY FACT that people feel compelled to do good in the world is understood to be, in and of itself, a Jewish value. The term tikun olam and the idea it represents has a very complicated history. For many Jews it has become the very essence of Judaism, while for others it barely even registers.
Rabba Rori Picker Neiss
Senior Vice President for Community Relations, Jewish Council for Public Affairs
WE COME at issues as the sum total of all of our being and experiences. I’ll get asked about an issue as a woman or as an Orthodox Jew or as a mother, and it’s hard to isolate where are our Jewish values compared to our American values, compared to our moral values that we may or may not think of as connected to our Jewish values.
I am seeing the Jewish community wrestling with the ways in which we feel this need to prioritize a safety and security of the Jewish community. Do we think that we need to prioritize fighting antisemitism? Do we need to prioritize a relationship with Israel? Are these issues that we think ultimately make the Jewish community most safe? Or do we recognize the ways in which civil liberties and minority rights ultimately are what keeps the Jewish community most safe? I think that’s the tension that we’re sitting with.
I have a hard time with [this increased focus on prioritizing communal safety] because I think it’s actually really dangerous for the Jewish community. I think that the Jewish community shifting in this direction is not ultimately going to be good for the Jews, in part because the Jewish community is never going to be influential enough or have enough of a presence in either the American or the Canadian context for our values to be what takes hold. So the only way that narrative actually moves forward is by tying this idea of Jewish values to other values that are more represented in the majority.
TO RETURN to the idea of the shtadlan, the fundamental shift in modernity was, perhaps, not whether one should advocate for Judaism beyond the narrow scope of particular Jewish interests. Rather, it concerns our ability to vote and advocate for what we think is best, often individually, independent of an overarching Jewish communal response. This ability to be your own shtadlan should be taken to heart. Should you consider your Jewish values when you go to the ballot box? Absolutely — but what that looks like is going to be different for each of us. For some, it will be limited and relate to issues that directly affect Jews, such as antisemitism or a given candidate’s voting record regarding Israel. For others, it will have a broader scope, encompassing social issues that their understanding of Judaism speaks to (however they interpret the sources and whatever they think Judaism has to say about them). All of these have precedent, and all fall within Jewish understandings of civic engagement.
