I am a frequent critic of militarism in the Religious Zionist camp and have published about it multiple times in both English and Hebrew.
That being said, I cannot identify with several of R. Zach Truboff’s formulations in his recent Lehrhaus essay “Can Religious Zionism Do Teshuvah”, and will here focus primarily on his portrayal of the Religious Zionist world. Truboff criticizes Religious Zionists for embracing power and violence, for refusal to rethink their view on our place in the redemptive process, and for not responding to crisis and catastrophe with a move towards repentance.
The essay cites Rav Yehuda Amital’s reaction to the Yom Kippur War, in which his faith in the redemptive course remains unshaken. It does not address Rav Amital’s subsequent turn in the early 1980s to a very different stance. Few individuals, secular or religious, on the left or the right, have rethought their views so impressively. In the linked sihah from Fall 1982, Rav Amital expresses hesitations about the First Lebanon War and horror at the Sabra and Shatila massacre, and insists that the Jewish people take precedence over the Land of Israel. Truboff utilizes a rabbi with an unusual ability to change as an example of an unwillingness to rethink.
The recently published Le-olam Yehei Adam reveals another side of Rav Amital. In a 2008 sihah published therein, he stated that he and his grandfather did not make aliyah because it is the first flowering of the redemption, but because the Land of Israel is our land and home. He describes “reishit tzemihat ge’ulateinu” (the beginning of the flowering of our redemption) as more of a hopeful prayer than a factual assertion (138). In a 2005 talk, he related that when R. Yitzhak Ha-Levi Herzog wanted to work against the Partition Plan, R. Isser Zalman Meltzer begged him not to because “I do not know how the redemption will come. Do not be so sure that God is not arranging it through partition.” Rav Amital adds his identification with the position that we do not know how redemption will arrive (144). This is quite distant from a deterministic messianic view.
Truboff writes: “Like his teacher, Rav Amital, before him, Rav Medan saw little need for Religious Zionism to rethink its core beliefs.” His supporting citation from the Second Intifada is a two page summary not written by Rav Medan. It calls for remaining in the territories obtained in 1967, but it is hard to conclude from this text that Rav Medan had no place for introspection at all.
In fact, a recent interview with Rav Medan in Makor Rishon indicates significant error in Truboff’s understanding. Here, Rav Medan describes his reaction to the Yom Kippur War (my translation):
The Yom Kippur War gave me the feeling, for the first time, that the State’s existence is not a given. Before the war, we lived with the sense that we are in the beginning of the flowering of our redemption, and we only have to consider at which turn does the Messiah wait for us.
Here is R. Medan’s reaction to last year’s October 7:
For fifty years, I thought that, due to our great victory, an event that threatened our existence like the Yom Kippur War was a one-time occurrence that will not return. Today, I completely understand how our existence as a people and a state still cannot be taken for granted.
What does R. Medan see as the outgrowth of the current conflict?
I feel that we are at the beginning of a process, and it is very difficult for me to see how it will conclude and where we will go with it. To answer the question ‘what will be?’ is, to some degree, a denial of our free will renewed each day.
These do not sound like the words of someone trapped in a redemptive worldview overconfident about our future.
To prove the militancy of the Religious Zionist camp, Truboff cites an article by Mikhael Manekin from Haaretz. It is a very short article with quotations from Rabbis Dov Lior and Shmuel Eliyahu. This is not a serious analysis of the broad spectrum of Religious Zionist attitudes, since the two rabbis in question are not only more militant than the dovish Rabbis Moshe Lichtenstein and Yuval Cherlow, but they are even more militant than more hardline Rabbis Yaakov Ariel and Elyakim Levanon. It is akin to using Gideon Levy, Amira Hass, and Rogel Alpher to illustrate standard thinking on the left.
A footnote intended to illustrate how Religious Zionist thinkers relate to the events of October 7 as the birth pangs of redemption refers to R. Moshe Taragin’s Dark Clouds Above, Faith Below. This volume may support the specific point, but it certainly shows that Truboff’s generalizations about Religious Zionism are overdrawn. Note these quotations from R. Taragin:
Whenever a tragedy occurs moral introspection is mandated, and certainly a catastrophe of this magnitude requires self-examination… It is always easiest to critique others and to lay the blame on someone else. Instead, each person should look inward, at themselves and their communities to identify areas for improvement. (19)
In our battle against haters, we can’t ourselves degenerate into a culture of hate. Though we hate those who murder and those who support them, we can’t become consumed by hatred… If we allow our ruthless enemies to flood us with their hate they will succeed in undermining and defeating us. (155)
This Religious Zionist rabbi does not sound particularly militaristic, nor does he rely on victimhood to free our community from introspection.
In sum, Truboff misleadingly depicts several rabbinic voices, and portrays the Religious Zionist world in a very negative light, without doing the real work necessary to establish his assertions.
Let us move on from the accuracy of his portrayal to other problems. A call for teshuvah should usually also be directed to oneself. What responsibility does Truboff place on his own camp? What should, say, The Faithful Left do teshuvah for? Along similar lines, perhaps the events of October 7 should inspire the Left to rethink whether the Palestinians truly want a two state solution. If those calling for renewing negotiations in this direction refuse to consider this question, they too could be judged guilty of remaining stuck in a paradigm.
Finally, the essay shows insufficient sympathy for the suffering of the Religious Zionist camp, including its many losses in the current war and the more than nine thousand people forcibly removed from their homes in 2005. In terms of the former, it might not be the optimal time to call on them to repent. In terms of the latter, those evacuated did not react violently nor did they begin hating the State, and they should be praised for their restraint.
As noted, I am highly critical of voices like R. Lior and of many attitudes prevalent in the Religious Zionist world. However, I am not willing to endorse an approach that paints the entire camp in a simplistic and misleading brush and fails to show deep sympathy in scenarios where Religious Zionist Jews truly are victims.
Yitzchak Blau
Rosh Yeshiva, Yeshivat Orayta
To the Editor,
Thank you to Yosef Lindell for his thoughtful article “Why Can’t Selihot Be More Like Kinot?” Ultimately, I was not persuaded by the comparison of Selihot to Kinot. Allow me to explain why.
Selihot are fundamentally different in nature from Kinot. Kinot are not really prayer; rather, they are private lamentations that are unconnected to tefilah be-tzibbur (public prayer) and do not require a minyan. On the other hand, Selihot are, at their core public prayers whose essential function is the recitation of the 13 Middot, which is only recited with a minyan. Of course, the central problem of modern times is that people do not understand the words that they recite – in prayer, in Selihot, and in Kinot – and that needs to be addressed, but explanatory Selihot are no better a solution than an explanatory Musaf on Yom Kippur. This is in contrast to Kinot, which are not part of communal worship at all, and therefore explanations are not contrary to the flow. This might help explain why Rabbi Soloveitchik was comfortable with such a central change in the Kinot ritual and not in any other area. Selihot are not like Kinot because one is prayer and one is not.
Of course, Lindell is completely correct that piyyutim in Selihot can be shortened or deleted. It is no secret (see the mahzor of Rabbi Soloveitchik for Yom Kippur on page 622 note 1, and 630 note 1) that Rabbi Soloveitchik and many others shortened Selihot even when they were integrated into Musaf on Yom Kippur. However, none of these changes are at all like the changes Rabbi Soloveitchik made to Kinot, which many follow – namely, we frequently do not recite Kinot, but rather just speak about them. Merely speaking about Kinot is permitted because Kinot are not part of the communal prayer service at all and do not require a minyan. But in Selihot, piyyutim in some form need to be recited in order to recite the 13 Middot. While changes to Selihot are part of the process of abbreviating communal prayer and can be done, these changes do not follow the same model as changes to Kinot.
What I have seen in many communities that wish to give more meaning to Selihot is a refocusing on the 13 Middot by abbreviating piyyutim or, alternatively, by deliberately reciting the piyyutim quickly, or to recite the piyyutim in English followed by a slow and deliberate recitation of the 13 Middot. These modes of recitation are at some level no different than the shortening of Musaf on Yom Kippur. However, none of these follow the model of Rabbi Soloveitchik concerning Kinot.
Maybe a better title of this wonderful article should be “Why Can’t Selihot Be More Like Musaf on Yom Kippur?”
Sincerely,
Michael J. Broyde
Atlanta, GA
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